Slowly Falling Apart
by Kate1221
Summary: After Harry's death, Dumbledore is forced to bequeath the difficult task of destroying Voldemort's Horcruxes to an unlikely pair of allies. In a world that is slowly falling apart, Snape and Hermione have to learn to trust each other in order to survive.
1. Chapter 1

AN: This story begins about halfway through Hermione's sixth year at Hogwarts, and stretches to cover all of 'Deathly Hallows'. Everything up until the start of this story is as it was in cannon - save for the fact that Harry died fighting Voldemort at the Department of Mysteries at the end of his fifth year.

I have already finished writing this story, and as such, updates will be regular. The story will be about 40 000 words in all.

Now, on to the story!

* * *

_Chapter One_

Night had long since fallen over Hogwarts, but still Hermione Granger could be found in the library, surrounded by stacks and stacks of books. In the dim light of the flickering candles positioned around her she turned page after page, not certain what she was looking for, but unwilling to stop searching regardless, for she knew that as soon as she did, thoughts of Harry and Ron would take over her mind.

Sighing, she closed the thick tome she had been perusing. She had tried so hard to banish those unwanted thoughts from her mind, but it seemed as though the boys were everywhere. Harry, sitting in this same library, looking for something, _anything _that would allow him to breathe underwater for the space of an hour; Ron, complaining loudly over everything related to studying but sitting with her regardless; the three of them bent over yet another essay, with her correcting the boys' scribbles.

It would never be like that again. Harry was gone, having finally died at the hands of an evil that had been haunting him ever since he had been a little boy. She missed him more than she had ever thought she would. It was as though a part of her had been ripped out. He had been her closest friend, her one touchstone in a changing world – and now he was gone.

And Ron ... Ron had been unable to handle the sight of his best friend lying dead on the floor, and it had been as though something had finally snapped inside him. He had screamed and screamed until they'd had to restrain him and take him away from Harry's body. He'd never been the same after that. Ron blocked out everyone else and lived in his own little world. At first they'd tried to get him to come out of his shell, but they'd soon had to admit defeat. Ron no longer cared for Quidditch, a trip to Diagon Alley appeared to be the most mundane thing ever, and Hogwarts was completely out of the question. It had torn at her heart to leave him behind, but she'd had no choice.

And now here she was, halfway through her sixth year, sitting alone in the library, looking for non-existant clues on how to battle Voldemort. Some days she wanted to give up on it all, to turn her back on magic, but every time she tried to pack her things she couldn't help but see Harry dead all over again – his glasses askew, a trickle of blood at the corner of his mouth – and she just couldn't allow him to have died for naught. No, this would have to -

'Miss Granger! Miss Granger!'

She was shaken out of her reverie by a none too gentle hand on her shoulder, and she turned her head. As soon as she saw who was standing next to her, however, she almost immediately shrunk away. Noticing her discomfort, Snape abruptly let go of her shoulder.

'P-Professor Snape?' she stammered.

Snape rolled his eyes. 'Your powers of observation are as astute as ever, Miss Granger. Now, if you would please follow me, the Headmaster requests your presence.'

Snape strode off, leaving Hermione to hurriedly scramble up and gather her books before following him out of the library. She finally caught up with him on the next corner.

'Why did he send you to get me, sir?'

'You're not the only one he wants to see,' Snape snapped. Hermione knew that it would be safer to keep her trap shut for the rest of the way, but there were just so many questions she wanted to ask. What did Dumbledore need Snape for? What did he need _her _for? And why couldn't the matter wait until morning?

Before she got the chance to ask any of these questions, however, they had reached the stone gargoyles that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office.

'Chocolate frogs,' Snape snarled as though the frogs had personally wronged him. The gargoyles leapt aside and Snape stepped onto the ascending stairs. She did the same, deeming it unwise to make the Professor wait. Within moments they had reached the oak door that led to Dumbledore's office. Snape knocked sharply on the door once, then threw it open.

Dumbledore, who had been writing on a piece of parchment, looked up at their entrance. He slid the piece of parchment into the top desk drawer and gestured towards a pair of chairs in front of his desk.

'Severus, Miss Granger, please sit down.'

She closed the door behind her and made her way towards the nearest of the chairs. Snape, however, remained standing. Dumbledore shot him a quick look, but didn't remark on his behaviour in any other way. Instead, he turned his attention towards Hermione.

'You must be wondering why I requested your presence in the middle of the night,' he said kindly. 'It is not something I would have normally done, but I am afraid this cannot wait.'

Snape made an impatient noise from his position near the door, but Dumbledore ignored him.

'As you are well aware, Lord Voldemort is on the rise. It is only a matter of time before he will come out in the open and seize power, and then there won't be much anyone can do to stop him. I had intended this to be Harry's task, but now that he ...'

Dumbledore stopped here, apparently at a loss for words. After a few awkward moments, Hermione took pity on the Headmaster and decided to help him out.

'Now that he has passed on?' she suggested. Dumbledore gave a slow nod, and it was then that she noticed he looked incredibly weary. She had always known Dumbledore wasn't exactly young, but it had never struck her before that he was so ... well, old. It was as though all the life had bled out of him.

'Now that Harry has passed on, I need someone else to fulfill the task I was going to set him.'

Snape, who had remained silent up until then, finally stepped out of the shadows and gripped the back of the empty chair. 'And what does that have to do with us?'

'Patience, Severus,' Dumbledore muttered. 'I will explain in a moment.'

'I would appreciate a slight increase in pace,' Snape spat. 'I have much better things to do than ... _reminiscence_, however pleasant that may be.'

Dumbledore put up his hand. 'Please, Severus, it is of the utmost importance that I explain this carefully. I am afraid this may take a while, so I would much appreciate it if you sat down.'

Snape, appearing to have finally given in, lowered himself onto the only unoccupied chair. He crossed his arms and stared at Dumbledore intently, as though he might force the information out of the older man by looking at him alone.

'The beginning of our story goes back a long time, to the night on which Voldemort attempted to kill the Potters. We know that he did not succeed, for Harry, though he was only one year old, not only survived the attack but also severely wounded Lord Voldemort. Voldemort was forced to flee and live in exile. He did not have a body of his own, and as such he was unable to come back to power. Nevertheless, he had survived a curse that by all means no one should be able to survive. And so a question arose in my mind: how was Lord Voldemort able to survive the killing curse?'

'But Harry survived too,' she cut in. 'If he could, why was it so strange for Voldemort to live?'

'Harry survived because his mother gave her life to save him,' Dumbledore explained patiently. 'It was ancient magic. Lord Voldemort, who believed old magic to be powerless, would never have bothered to research it. I knew then that he had to have taken other measures. Much more ... dark measures.'

She heard a sharp intake of breath and was surprised to find it coming from the usually so composed Snape. His face was still a mask of indifference, but his sallow skin seemed paler than ever.

'Headmaster, certainly you don't mean to imply –' he began.

'That is exactly what I mean to imply, Severus,' Dumbledore said calmly, pressing his fingertips against each other. 'Lord Voldemort created Horcruxes.'

Snape paled even further at this, and sank back into his chair. 'Are you absolutely certain?' His voice was no more than a whisper, hoarse and uncharacteristic. Dumbledore gave a tiny nod.

'I am afraid so, Severus. You see, I have already tracked down several of them.'

'Several? You mean ... there are more?'

'Yes, six in total, if my guess is correct, and I daresay it is.'

However intelligent Hermione was supposed to be, she didn't understand a thing of the conversation. To be honest, she had never heard of Horcruxes before, but it had to be something horrible, judging by Snape's reaction. She did not appreciate being left out of the conversation, however, and so she loudly cleared her throat.

'Excuse me, but what _are _Horcruxes?'

Both the men's gazes snapped towards her.

'Ah, yes, I apologize, Miss Granger,' Dumbledore said. 'I forgot for a moment that you do not know about Horcruxes. Perhaps Severus would be kind enough to explain?'

Snape shot a look of the utmost contempt at Dumbledore, but began to explain nevertheless.

'A Horcrux is a piece of soul hidden in an object. Its purpose is to allow its owner's soul to survive, even if their body is destroyed.'

'A piece of a soul? But how is that even possible?'

Snape pinched the bridge of the nose. 'There are old books ... _dark _books ... a spell ....'

'To create a Horcrux, one has to commit the most supreme act of evil,' Dumbledore added. 'Murder rips the soul apart.'

'You mean to say that Voldemort _ripped his soul apart_?' She could not keep a touch of horror from her voice.

'Precisely,' Dumbledore confirmed. 'I have carefully studied Voldemort's past, mainly through obtaining memories of people who knew him. One such memory in particular strongly suggests that Voldemort indeed wished to create Horcruxes, and that he intended to split his soul into seven parts – for seven is the most powerful magical number.'

'So that's what makes him immortal?'

'That is what _nearly _makes him immortal. If one was to destroy all six Horcruxes, Lord Voldemort would remain a mere mortal, just as capable of dying as any of us. But do not forget that Voldemort remains an exceptionally cunning and talented wizard. Even with a soul as maimed as his, he is a more than worthy opponent.'

'So we have to destroy the Horcruxes.'

'Indeed, Miss Granger. However, if we are to do that, we will have to identify and find them first. I am certain that you appreciate the magnitude of this problem.'

She nodded vigorously. 'They could be anything ... anywhere, right?'

'Well, I have been able to narrow down the options quite a bit,' Dumbledore said kindly. 'Firstly, it is not six Horcruxes we have to find, but only four. Two of them have already been destroyed.'

'Which ones? And how?'

'Miss Granger, do you think you could refrain from wetting yourself with anticipation?' Snape snarled.

Feeling very foolish, she flushed and looked away. 'I'm sorry, Professor.'

'No matter, it is natural to be curious,' Dumbledore reassured her. 'I will explain everything about the Horcruxes. If Professor Snape finds himself capable of listening, that is.'

A bit of colour reappeared on Snape's cheeks.

'Do explain,' he snarled, and Dumbledore smiled and began the story.

* * *

A long while later, Dumbledore had finally finished explaining and silence had dawned upon the room, leaving each of its three occupants immersed in their own thoughts. Hermione's head was spinning with all of the information she had newly learned, but oddly enough, everything made sense. With the exception of one little detail.

'But sir,' she began, 'why are you telling this to Professor Snape and myself?'

'I am telling you this because I want the two of you to find and destroy the remaining Horcruxes,' Dumbledore spoke calmly.

Snape's lips curled into a displeased sneer. 'You cannot be serious.'

'I have never been more serious in my life.'

'Surely you know better than to bestow this mission upon a teenager and an untrustworthy Death Eater such as myself!'

'Ex-Death Eater, Severus, and untrustworthy is hardly a word I would associate with you,' Dumbledore replied evenly. 'Furthermore, Miss Granger is not a child anymore. If anything, she is more mature than some people twice her age.'

'Do you not have any idea of the possible consequences this plan might have? Do you not know what the Dark Lord will do to me if he finds out I am destroying his Horcruxes behind his back?'

'Then I suggest you do not get found out.'

Hermione was surprised by the coldness of Dumbledore's voice in his last words. She had always viewed the Headmaster as a kind and friendly man, but this drew attention to a wholly new side of him. The air in the office suddenly seemed too thick.

'I agree with Professor Snape,' she chimed in, eager to dispel the awkwardness. 'Surely there are much better qualified people for this task?'

'That is precisely the problem, Miss Granger,' Dumbledore replied. 'There aren't. Who else could I trust with this mission?'

'The members of the Order?' she suggested.

'There is no way to be certain that the Order will not get infiltrated. For all we know, Voldemort is using the Imperius curse on one of the members right now. Furthermore, as I am certain you know, the best kept secrets are the ones that few people know about.'

'You could give this task to Kingsley,' Snape said coldly. 'He is more than up to it.'

'But how could I be certain he is really on our side?'

Snape slammed his fist down on Dumbledore's desk. 'How can you be certain _I'm _on your side?'

'We both know you could never be loyal to Voldemort again after that night sixteen years ago,' Dumbledore said confidently. Snape's face fell and he stumbled back to his seat, not speaking another word. She regarded the exchange of words with thinly veiled curiosity.

'But Professor Dumbledore,' she protested, not taking her eyes off Snape, 'why can't you go after the Horcruxes?'

'Because I will be dead before the year is over.'

'Dead?' she shrieked. 'But why?'

'Lord Voldemort has plans to get rid of me.' Dumbledore made it sound as though it was the most normal thing in the world. Hermione did not agree.

'But you could escape, right?'

'It would be no use,' Dumbledore sighed. 'As you have no doubt noticed, my wand hand is not what it used to be. I fell prey to a curse when I destroyed the ring Horcrux, and while said curse has been temporarily contained in my hand, it will not stay there. Before too long, I will be dead, regardless of whether Voldemort kills me or not.'

'But wouldn't it be better to die as the result of the curse than at Voldemort's hands?'

'No, Miss Granger. You see, Voldemort does not intend to kill me himself. He will be using Draco Malfoy.'

'Malfoy? Malfoy is going to kill you?' she gasped.

'That is Voldemort's plan. However, I do not believe that this is according to Draco's wishes.'

'Then why doesn't he choose not to kill you?'

'Because that would endanger both him and his family.' Dumbledore sighed once more. 'Still, I wish to spare his soul, and as such I have decided on another course of action.' At this he looked pointedly at Snape, who, in turn, deliberately refused to meet Dumbledore's eyes.

'You want Professor Snape to kill you?' she asked in disbelief, catching on quickly. 'But why? What's the use?'

'It would both save Draco Malfoy and secure Professor Snape's position in Voldemort's inner circle,' Dumbledore explained. 'That way, he can remain a spy for the Light.'

She stared incredulously at Snape. 'You _agreed_?'

Snape frowned but did not return her gaze. 'I had no other choice. Believe me, Miss Granger, this is not what I want either.'

'Now that we have established why the two of you will be tracking down the Horcruxes and destroying them, I will need to supply you with some more information. To start with –'

Snape did look at Dumbledore now. 'I do not believe I agreed to this ridiculous idea.'

Dumbledore's eyes bored into Snape's with an intensity that was almost tangible. Hermione involuntarily inched her seat away from the desk.

'You will do as I say, Severus. The fate of our entire world depends on it.' It was quiet for an immeasurable moment longer, and then Dumbledore broke the eye contact. 'As I was saying, the first thing you need to know is that I am quite positive I have found another Horcrux. I believe it to be located in a cave at the sea near a village Voldemort visited as a child.' He pulled out an old map from another drawer and spread it out on his desk. He then jabbed a finger into it. 'The village is located right here. As for the second thing: there is an easy way to destroy the Horcruxes.'

Dumbledore stood up and walked towards the glass case that contained Gryffindor's sword. He opened it and took the weapon out carefully before putting it down on his desk.

'Several years ago, Harry used this sword to kill the Basilisk. The sword is designed to absorb anything that makes it stronger, and as such Basilisk venom became embedded in the sword. This is what I used to destroy the ring. When you find any of the remaining Horcruxes, you should use it to destroy them.'

He then lifted the sword from the table and put it back into its case. He turned to face Snape and herself. She was relieved to see his features had softened.

'There is one more thing that I must give to you before allowing you to go to bed,' he said quietly. Hermione allowed her gaze to travel to Snape's face for a moment, and was surprised to find him already looking at her. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, and then they each focussed on Dumbledore again.

The Headmaster, seemingly oblivious to the exchange between his guests, had opened yet another drawer and had taken a tightly wrapped package out of it.

'This belonged to Harry,' he said, pushing the package into her hands. It felt soft. 'But I feel that it will be of use to you.'

'The Invisibility Cloak,' she whispered, rubbing over the package.

'Indeed. I trust you will keep it safe. Now,' Dumbledore stood up and walked towards the door, which he opened. 'It is high time for the pair of you to go to bed.'

Snape didn't look amused at all at being told that he had to go to bed, but he swept out of the office regardless. She thought that he probably had just as much to mull over as she had. She quietly slipped out of Dumbledore's office, down the stairs and towards the Gryffindor tower, tightly clutching the package that contained Harry's cloak to her chest.

* * *

AN: If you're still with me, thank you for reading all of this chapter. I know that it is a tad boring - but some things simply need to be explained before we can get to the real action. ;)


	2. Chapter 2

AN: There's been a bit of a time jump - this chapter takes place in the summer after Hermione's sixth year, so after Snape killed Dumbledore.

* * *

Chapter Two

She had only just knocked on The Burrow's front door when it was thrown open by a tired-looking Molly Weasley.

'Ah, Hermione,' the Weasley matron greeted her, 'there you are. He'll be glad to see you. Please come in.'

Hermione stepped over the threshold, into the cluttered hallway and up the stairs. Ron's room was almost at the top of the house, and as such she was slightly out of breath when she finally reached his door. She took off the spells that were meant to ensure Ron didn't escape from his room and, after knocking (not that she thought he would be aware of it, but it seemed rude not to) she entered the room.

Ron's room was still as orange as ever, courtesy of the posters of the Chudley Cannons. The room was oddly neat, the usual stacks of comics and wizarding games having been put neatly onto several shelves. Ron himself was sitting on a chair next to the tiny window, gazing outside. He hardly ever moved from that spot nowadays.

'Hi, Ron,' she said, pulling up a chair and sitting opposite him. 'How are you doing?'

Ron didn't reply. In all honesty, he hadn't even looked at her since she had entered the room, prefering instead to stare outside. She gave him a warm smile anyway. Perhaps her presence would remind him that he wasn't alone.

'I'm doing quite well,' she continued, her eyes never leaving Ron's face. 'Mum and dad are being a bit difficult though. They found out some of what is going in our world – I stupidly left a Daily Prophet lying around – and they don't want me to go back to Hogwarts. Oh, well, I'm sure that, given some time, they will come to see reason.'

Ron was still looking impassively out of the window. She followed his gaze and stared down into the garden.

She sat in silence with Ron for quite a while longer, lost in her own thoughts as she stared outside. At length, she turned her attention back to Ron and took a deep breath.

'I'm going to try and save the wizarding world, Ron,' she said. Ron continued to look outside, and she could feel a laugh welling up at the ridiculousness of the situation. She quickly forced it back. This was not something to laugh about. 'I know it sounds insane, but, you know, Dumbledore left me a mission. Me and –'

She stopped abruptly, biting her cheek. It wouldn't do to tell anyone about Snape just yet, not even if it was Ron. She couldn't be certain who he might accidentally pass the information on to.

'Anyway, I think I'd best be going,' she concluded, getting up. 'Mom and dad will be furious with me if I'm not home before dark.'

She pushed the chair back to where she had taken it from and marched towards the door. She only looked back when she had opened it.

'Goodbye, Ron. I'll come see you again soon, okay?'

Silence was her answer. She closed the door and warded it again, leaving Ron next to the window.

She dashed down the stairs and poked her head around the kitchen door. Mrs Weasley was standing at the stove, cooking dinner.

'It smells great, Mrs Weasley.'

Mrs Weasley jumped at her words and spun around. Seeing it was only Hermione in the door opening, she visibly relaxed.

'Thank you, dear. Won't you stay for dinner?'

'No, I have to be home before dark. Thank you for asking, though.'

'No problem. Perhaps you can come over for dinner sometime soon?'

'I would love that. Goodbye, Mrs Weasley.'

'Goodbye, Hermione.'

Hermione made her way back through the cluttered hallway and stepped out into the garden. Though it was already past five o'clock, the day was still quite warm. She walked out of the garden, past the anti-apparition wards, and then disapparated back to her own front garden.

Feeling rather smug that she had managed to get back home on time, she darted up the few steps that led to the front door, fished her key out of her pocket and unlocked the door. She then kicked off her shoes and headed into the living room.

She was greeted with a rather unusual, no, _impossible _sight.

Severus Snape was sitting in her living room, talking to her fatherand sipping tea. _Tea! _

She noticed she had remained frozen in the door opening and that both her father and Professor Snape were looking at her rather curiously. She swallowed thickly.

'Er, hi ...' she said, and silently berated herself as soon as the words left her mouth. Er, hi? What kind of greeting was that?

Her father didn't appear to be bothered by her baffledness. 'Hello, Hermione. This man came to speak with you – he says he's your teacher?' Her father looked inquiringly from Snape to her and back again, apparently trying to discern if the man had been telling the truth.

'Yes, yes he is,' she confirmed, finally managing to shake some of the confusedness off of herself. She made her way to the only unoccupied seat in the room – on the couch, next to Snape.

'As Mr Granger said, I have come here to speak with you,' Snape drawled. At her nod, he turned towards her father and said: 'Would you mind leaving us for a moment?'

'Not at all,' her father promptly said, gathering his tea cup and his paper. 'I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.'

She stared after her father, feeling something of uneasiness at the calmness with which he had handled Snape's visit. It was ... unlike him.

Snape waited until her father had disappeared into the kitchen and had closed the door behind him before addressing her.

'You seem surprised to see me, Miss Granger.'

'Well, I am,' she retorted. 'What are you doing here?'

Snape appeared to resist the urge to roll his eyes. 'I would say that is blatantly clear. As you are very well aware, Professor Dumbledore is no longer among us – dead, as you know, at my hands. I trust you do remember the task he set us?'

She only just managed to bite back a sharp retort. 'Yes, sir. We have to find the Horcruxes. That still does not explain why you are here.'

'I have come to discuss the details of our current predicament with you. You should know that I have been appointed Headmaster of Hogwarts. This, of course, is the Dark Lord's doing.'

'So you're returning to Hogwarts. Why can't we discuss the details of this task at the school? Certainly that would be much easier for the both of us.'

'I am afraid that is not possible. You see, Miss Granger, I cannot allow you to return to Hogwarts.'

She couldn't keep the surprise and frustration from showing on her face. Who did he think he was to boss her around? 'And why, pray tell, can't you?'

'Because I know things that you don't,' Snape snarled. 'Because I am not the only Death Eater who will be stationed at Hogwarts. Because I do not want you to fall prey to those Cruciatus-loving monsters.'

That shut her up. For a moment, in any case.

'But what about the others? Won't they be in danger?'

Snape sighed. 'Yes. Unfortunately, I cannot openly warn them, or the Dark Lord would know what I was up to straight away.'

She bit her lip. 'I want to go back.'

'You cannot. It is dangerous.'

'I don't care if it's dangerous –'

'Miss Granger!' Snape barked. She involuntarily jerked back. 'You will not go back! To start with, having been Potter's friend, they would treat you worse than any other student! You'd be lucky to still know your name when they're finished with you!' Snape took a deep breath, apparently willing himself to calm down. 'Secondly, you will need all the time you can get to investigate the whereabouts of the Horcruxes. I will, of course, assist you as much as possible, but I cannot leave the school unsupervised at day.'

She nodded slowly, finally beginning to understand what Snape was trying to make her see.

'You're right. I apologize.'

'Apology accepted.'

'But we will need a place to do research, won't we?' She frowned, immersed in thoughts. 'And we can't use Hogwarts ... My home wouldn't be ideal either, being situated in the middle of a Muggle neighbourhood ...'

'Yes, that indeed poses a problem,' Snape agreed. 'Fortunately, I believe I have found the solution to it. What is your opinion on reinstating Grimmauld Place as our headquarters?'

'Grimmauld Place? But it's not safe anymore now that Sirius has died, is it?'

'There are still more than enough protective enchantments on the house to ensure that no ordinary wizard will stumble upon it. As for the Dark Lord and his followers, I am quite certain that they will not try to break in. I have told the Dark Lord that the place is boobytrapped, and he does not want to risk losing people to a cause he doesn't deem very important. If we place a few extra wards, we should be perfectly safe.'

'But won't they notice I'm not at school?' she wondered out loud. 'And if they do, won't they come looking for me? Because in that case, we should make sure my parents are safe.'

'Yes.' Snape was quiet for a moment, looking at a blank point on the wall in front of him. He looked as though he was trying to find an easy way to say the next few words. 'I am quite familiar with the Dark Lord's _searching _methods, and I have a concluded that there is only one way to keep your parents safe.' He still did not take his eyes off the wall in front of him.

'Which is?' she asked, feeling a slight apprehension at Snape's odd behaviour.

'We will have to alter their memories and send them someplace far away,' Snape said stoically. 'I was considering Australia.'

'WHAT?' Without realizing she had moved, she found herself standing next to the couch, looking down on Snape. He quickly got to his feet.

'Miss Granger –'

'Do you have any idea what you're asking? You –'

Her angry tirade was interrupted by the opening of the kitchen door. Her father and mother appeared in the door opening, looking exceptionally agitated. Belatedly, Hermione realized they had forgotten to cast a silencing charm.

'What on Earth is going on here?' Her father's voice sounded torn between anger and betrayal. 'What is all this talk about altering our memories and sending us to Australia?'

Snape took a few steps towards her father, seemingly trying to decide on the best approach. 'Please, Mr Granger, it would be in the interest of your own safety and that of your wife.'

This served only to anger her father even more. 'Safety? And what about our daughter? Should we just allow her to roam about on her own? She isn't even of age yet!'

'She is in our world,' Snape said calmly.

Her father looked as though he was about to give Snape an angry retort, but she managed to beat him to speaking.

'Dad, please,' she said, taking a cautious step towards her father. 'I know what this sounds like, but really, it would be in your best interest. And no,' she added as her mother opened her mouth, 'I know that you think you can look after yourselves, but you don't know what these people are capable of.'

'Your daughter is right,' Snape agreed. 'These are not just ordinary people, they are monsters that will not shy away from using any means to achieve their ends.'

'Please, sit down,' Hermione pleaded. 'We'll explain everything. Just don't – don't get angry.'

Her parents still rather looked like they were, but they did do as she had asked and sat down on the couch she and Snape had previously occupied. Snape had now sat down on the only other chair in the living room, and as such she lowered herself onto the table.

'Mom, dad,' she began, wondering how she was ever going to explain everything to her parents, 'you remember about this evil wizard I told you about?'

'That you-know-what fellow?' her mother asked, frowning.

Hermione nodded. 'He is on the rise once more. I ... I haven't told you yet, but ... he killed Harry.'

'Your friend?' her mother asked. 'Harry Potter?'

'Yes, him,' she confirmed. 'You see, Harry was supposed to be the only one who could defeat You-Know-Who, and know that he's gone ...'

Silence dawned upon the room. Snape was the first to break it.

'The wizarding world is in a rather grave state. Left and right people are disappearing. If we do not act, I fear the same will happen to you.'

Her father looked confused. 'But why would they target us?'

Hermione looked at Snape for support, but the man had fallen silent. She swallowed. 'Because I was Harry's friend, dad. It's only natural that they should come after me and my family.'

'And so you propose to ... to alter our memories?' Her mother's voice was oddly high-pitched.

Snape nodded solemnly. 'It is the only way to keep you safe.'

'But what about Hermione?' her father addressed Snape. 'What will happen to her?'

'Mr. Granger, I promise you to do my utmost best to keep her physically safe.'

Hermione sighed. Physically safe?She should have known better than to expect Snape would be worried about her mental state of being. Luckily, her parents seemed not to have realized Snape's promise was a rather dubious one.

'So ... what will happen to us?' her mother asked.

'I will erase all your memories and replace them with fake ones,' Snape said neutrally.

Her mother gasped. 'Erase our memories?'

'You won't notice a thing, mom,' Hermione said soothingly. 'Professor Snape is more than capable of performing a memory charm. You will be perfectly happy.'

A sob escaped her mother, and her father put an arm around his wife's shoulders. 'Is there no other way?'

'No,' Snape said decidedly.

Her father breathed in shakily. 'Very well, then ... do it.'

Snape nodded and got up. Hermione followed his example and moved to a corner of the room, regarding her parents quietly: her father, regarding Snape quite calmly now, and her mother, still sobbing quietly – but, she knew her mother would follow her father in anything –

Snape began the incantation and her parents immediately went blank-eyed. She felt a hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach when she realized they had not bothered to say goodbye to their daughter.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Grimmauld Place had once again become the dusty, dirty mess that it had been on her first visit to the house in the summer preceding her fifth year at Hogwarts. The house had been deserted for two years, and somehow, dust always seemed to settle here twice as fast as anywhere else.

She and Snape had had to undo countless jinxes upon entering the house, including one that had left Snape tongue-tied for several hours before they managed to undo it, and one of a dark shape that had looked a horrifying lot like a terrible, undead version of Dumbledore. It had only disappeared after she had screamed at it that she hadn't killed him. She'd still felt shaken by that encounter even as she was sitting at the kitchen table, sipping her tea, more than an hour later. Snape, though he would never admit it, had looked quite disturbed by it as well.

They'd then set to cleaning out one of the less filthy bedrooms of the house, determined to get it at least relatively clean and safe before nightfall. Snape had already said that he would be staying at Grimmauld Place for the next couple of days to help her render the house liveable once again, and she was incredibly glad for his help. She still remembered the first time they'd had to clean out the house quite well, and though the situation was somewhat less severe this time around, it seemed like quite the task nevertheless.

It was only when her stomach started to rumble and she realized that she was quite hungry that she noticed the absence of the house's only permanent occupant.

'Where is Kreacher?' she asked Snape as they attempted to catch the mice that had infestated themselves underneath a cabinet in the bedroom. 'I haven't seen him around.'

'He is not here anymore,' Snape said, his voice sounding muffled from underneath the cabinet. 'He is with Bellatrix. She is the legitimate owner of Grimmauld Place now that Black is dead. Not that she thinks it has any worth.'

'Hm,' she said, not certain if she should feel relieved to be rid of the house elf or sorry for him because Bellatrix was his new owner.

Snape, as though having read her thoughts, said: 'Do not feel sorry for him. I am certain he nearly wet his tea towel at the prospect of living with her and the Malfoys.'

Hermione let out a small laugh. Snape re-emerged from underneath the cabinet, his cheeks flushed.

'Let's leave those mice for now,' he said curtly. 'It is way past time for dinner already.'

Hermione glanced at her watch and was startled to discover it was already eight o'clock. She realized she hadn't even noticed the darkness creeping over Grimmauld Place.

'Merlin, it's already eight o'clock!' she exclaimed.

Snape sniffed and got up from the floor. He then offered his hand to Hermione as though to help her up. She stared at it incredulously for a moment, and Snape appeared to realize his mistake. The redness in his cheeks increased.

'Well, are you going to get up or would you prefer to stay on the floor?' he snapped. Hermione quickly took his outstretched hand and allowed herself to be pulled back onto her feet by Snape. She then followed him down the stairs and into the kitchen. As she watched him go through the kitchen drawers, looking for plates and cutlery, another thought struck her.

'Do we have any food?' she asked his back. Snape glared at her over his shoulder.

'Of course we do, Miss Granger. Just because it hadn't occured to you that we would need to eat does not mean it escaped my notice.'

She clenched her mouth shut, trying very hard not to be annoyed with Snape. After all, he'd been quite civil to her for most of the day and it would be neat to return the favour.

She began going through the drawers as well, joining Snape in his search for dinner ware. They at last managed to locate some (slightly dusty) plates, and after Snape had cleaned them with a flick of his wand, she put them on the table. She continued looking for cutlery while Snape prepared their dinner. She was vaguely surprised to see the stove still working – she had anticipated the kitchen to have been lost beyond all recovery by now. At her inquiry as to what they would be eating, Snape snarled 'rice' and proceeded to ignore her for the rest of the cooking process. She didn't mind too terribly.

After she had finally retrieved some cutlery, she sat down on one of the kitchen chairs facing the stove and watched Snape cook. A concentrated frown was firmly in place on his face, and she decided that he looked much like he did when he was making Potions. This seemed logical – cooking and making potions were quite alike, after all. It had something nearly comical watching Snape cook rice in the kitchen of one of his oldest enemies.

Just when the feeling of hunger became annoyingly insistent, Snape finished cooking. He slammed the food down on the table and sat down opposite her. Hermione, deciding not to bother with table manners, immediately helped herself to a large quantity of rice. It was surprisingly tasty.

When they finished eating, Snape rapidly disposed of their dinner and cleaned the dishes with another flick of his wand. Hermione could not help but grimace at this – she hated it when dishes were cleaned with magic; it always left weird spots. She did not mention this to the sullen man, however, deeming it unwise to provoke his anger. They then went upstairs to clean the last parts of the bedroom they had been working on before. Snape managed to get rid of the mice, and she, in turn, succeeded in banishing most of the cobwebs. It was well past ten when the bedroom had finally reached an acceptable level of cleanliness, and Hermione felt absolutely exhausted.

Snape seemed to sense as much. 'I suggest you go to bed now, Miss Granger. You will need to be rested for tomorrow, when we begin cleaning the rest of the house.'

She nodded and was just about to retrieve her bags from the floor landing when a sudden realization made her freeze on the spot.

'But what about you?' she asked, turning back to Snape.

'Pardon?' he asked, a touch of exasperation in his voice.

'Where will you sleep? There's only one bed here.'

'I will take up residence in the kitchen.'

'On a chair?'

'Of course not,' Snape spat. 'I am a wizard, and as such I am perfectly capable of conjuring a matress. You would do well to use those brains you are rumoured to have before asking insipid questions next time, Miss Granger.'

She could feel herself flush. 'Sorry. Goodnight, Professor.'

Snape appeared to debate with himself whether he should wish her goodnight for a moment, then settled on a 'I'll see you in the morning' before stalking out of the bedroom.

Hermione retrieved her bags and dug through them in search of a pajama. When she finally found one, she put it on and fell onto the bed without any further ado.

* * *

She awoke surprisingly early the next morning. Judging by the light falling in through the uncovered bedroom window, it couldn't be much past six o'clock. She slid out from beneath the covers and quickly put her clothes on, wondering if Snape was still asleep. She stowed her wand into the pocket of her jeans and quietly made her way downstairs, past the heads of the house elves and the portrait of Mrs. Black. She halted at the kitchen door, pressing her ear against the wood and listening for any sign of life. She heard the creaking of a chair and concluded that Snape was indeed awake. She then pushed open the kitchen door.

Snape was sitting at the table, chewing on a piece of bread. He seemed to have been immersed in a thick book, but looked up as she stepped into the kitchen. He gave a small nod to acknowledge her presence and then turned back to his book. She let herself fall into a kitchen chair and pulled the bread towards her.

Snape waited until she had devoured two slices of bread before closing his book and looking at her. She felt an involuntary urge to fidget under his cold gaze.

´Have you finished eating?'

'Yes,' she answered, wondering how that simple question could make her feel as though she had commited a terrible sin.

'Good. I propose we begin with cleaning the kitchen, and then move on to the bathroom. Then tomorrow, we could tackle another bedroom.'

It was all Hermione could do not to laugh at association of Snape and the words 'tackle another bedroom'. She bit back her laughter however, and looked at Snape earnestly. The man looked pensive.

'Does this house have a living room?'

She shrugged. 'There is a drawing room on the first floor.'

'Hm, perhaps we should clean that out as well,' Snape muttered.

She did crack a smile then – who would have thought Snape was such a cleaning freak?

* * *

Three hours and a whole lot of dust later she found it hard to believe she had been laughing at the prospect of cleaning only that morning. Clearing out the kitchen was proving to be a hellish task indeed. Behind every door she opened there was a myriad of spiders, mice and dust. Lots of dust. Though she used her wand to clean away the worst of the filth before attacking the remainder with a cloth, it still took forever to clean even the smallest cupboard. What was worse, Snape's good (well, at least reasonable) mood had vanished within the hour. He was edgy and continiously flung complaints at her. And so it came to be that she found herself in a rather precarious situation.

'Miss Granger!' Snape barked, and she paused in her task of removing cobwebs from the ceiling. 'What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing?'

She stared incredulously at Snape, the towel she'd been using forgetten in her hand. 'I'm removing cobwebs ...?'

Snape did not look amused.

'Miss Granger, I do believe you own a wand. Do you not think that cleaning spells would be much more effective than this ... towel waving?'

She looked down at the towel in her hand, then back again at Snape. 'Well, I did consider using cleaning spells, but using them on those webs tends to result in pieces remaining behind.'

Snape looked positively livid. 'Miss Granger, I would rather have a few remainders of webs here and there than complete cobwebs over the whole house!'

'Well then, since you're obviously so good at this whole cleaning business, why don't you do it yourself?'

With that, she ended the levitating charm and threw the towel down at Snape's feet. The man looked absolutely furious, but she paid him no heed as she stormed up the stairs, up as far as she could.

So it came to be that she found herself standing on the topmost landing. There were only two doors on this floor – one that lead to what had once been Sirius' room, and one that apparently led to his brother's, judging by the sign that read "Do Not Enter Without the Express Permission of Regulus Arcturus Black". She decided to leave Regulus' room be for the moment, and instead elected to explore Sirius' room.

She stepped into the room, trying to ignore the feeling that she was seriously invading Sirius' privacy. After all, he was dead, and he wouldn't have minded her having a look around, would he? Besides, it provided the perfect excuse to take a break from cleaning.

The room was spacious and gave the impression of having once been beautiful, though its previous grandeur had now mostly faded. There was a large bed with a handsomely carved headboard, a tall window with long velvet curtains and a wooden wardrobe. The walls were covered with posters and Gryffindor banners. She spared a moment to look at some of the posters (they mostly featured motorbikes and scarcely dressed women) and then sat down on the bed.

Her eyes roamed over the room, finally coming to a rest on the only photograph that was present in the room. It featured Sirius, James, Lupin and Pettigrew as Hogwarts students. She decided that Sirius had indeed been rather handsome when he was young. Lupin, though slightly less weary in the photograph than he was now, still was somewhat shabby-looking, and Pettigrew ... Pettigrew she preferred not to think about. James was grinning widely, his hair a mess and his glasses slightly askew. Harry really had looked like James.

She blinked furiously, trying to banish the sudden tears that were threatening to spill onto her cheeks. She would not cry now. It wasn't what Harry would have wanted.

The creaking of the bedroom door alerted her to Snape's presence, and she rapidly turned around to look at him. She noticed he at least had the decency to look vaguely guilty.

'Miss Granger,' he said, his voice remarkably quiet, 'I realize that I may have overreacted.'

She raised her eyebrows at this statement. Snape, having caught the unspoken hint, once again resorted to pinching the bridge of his nose. He made quite the image: his black robes covered with dust, his greasy hair standing up at strange angles and a pained expression on his face.

'Fine, I did overreact,' he snapped. 'I did not intend to do so, but the situation drove me to act irrationally.'

She realized that this was probably the closest thing she would get to an apology right now, and she decided to forgive him. The endless cleaning was making her pretty moody, as well.

'All right,' she said. 'How about we have a short break before cleaning the rest of the kitchen?'

Snape looked rather relieved at the prospect of getting a break.

* * *

Over the next few days, they managed to clean out most of the rooms they were planning on using. The rooms that were now considered 'safe' included the kitchen, two bedrooms, a bathroom and the drawing room. All in all, Hermione felt quite accomplished.

The end of the summer holidays was nearing, and soon Snape would return to Hogwarts and she'd be stuck in the empty house all day on her own. She was already beginning to regret leaving Crookshanks with her parents, but then it was probably in his best interest. She shivered to think what would happen if the half-kneazle accidentally stumbled upon one of the darker objects that were scattered throughout the house.

She let her eyes drift over the empty fireplace and wondered when Snape would return.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office, Snape had finally managed to locate the books Dumbledore had left him.

'To be honest,' began the late Headmaster's portrait from above Snape as he shrunk the books, 'I was beginning to think you would not find those books at all.'

'Be quiet, you old frog. You could have just told me where to find all the books, and then I would not even have had to look for them.'

'Ah,' said Dumbledore's portrait, painted eyes twinkling furiously, 'but that would have taken away all the fun.'

'You call it fun, Headmaster, I call it an absolute waste of my time.' Dumbledore's portrait merely chuckled. This did not serve to make Snape any calmer. 'Perhaps you do not care about wasted time anymore, seeing as you are no longer physically among us, but to other wizards it does matter.'

'There is no need to be so offended, Severus.'

Snape paused and slowly turned around to face the portrait. 'You would do well to remember that it was you who bestowed this mission upon me,' he snapped at the painting.

'I have not forgotten that, Severus,' Dumbledore's portrait said quietly.

'Good.'

And with that, he gathered the shrunken books and Flooed out of the office, leaving behind a rather sombre portrait.

* * *

At Grimmauld Place, Hermione looked up as the fireplace flashed a bright green and Snape stepped out of it.

'I made a trip to the Headmaster's office,' he explained while beginning to return the books to their original size. She quickly got up and began to help him. 'And I finally found these.'

'Well, it's a good thing you did,' she said cheerily, turning a particularly vicious-looking book so that she could read the cover. 'These books look highly useful.'

Snape reached into his robes and pulled out a thin book. 'He also left this. As far as I've been able to discern, they are notes on the Dark Lord's past and on Horcruxes in general.'

Hermione reached out and took the thin book from Snape's head. She carefully thumbed through it.

'This is amazing,' she said eagerly.

Two days later, Snape left for Hogwarts and she remained in the old house all by herself. It was not that she was scared – it took more than a dusty old building to frighten her – but she would miss the company. Snape had proven to be a tolerable, almost likeable person when he was away from Hogwarts. She had always thought that Snape was just as big a bastard outside school as he was inside it, but it seemed that he was much more relaxed when he didn't have to deal with incompetent students all the time. That, or he was just glad to have a person that didn't walk the other way (or attempted to hex him) whenever he came in their vicinity.

The rest of the Order, remaining clueless as to Snape's true loyalties, treated him worse than a doormat. At one point, Snape had returned to Grimmauld Place covered in nasty boils – courtesy of Kingsley Shacklebolt. She had felt sorry for him then, but she had been careful not to show it, for she was certain that Snape would have turned his back on her at the first sign of pity.

The other Death Eaters didn't appear to treat him much better. While they didn't hex him whenever he looked away from them, they still treated him with hate, or at least that was what she had gathered from Snape's scarce remarks. It was then that she had understood that Dumbledore hadn't just bestowed the Horcrux-hunting task on her because of her skills and brains, but also with the purpose of keeping Snape sane. Dumbledore had evidently hoped that having someone treat Snape kindly (or at least _decently_) would allow him to deal with the situation better. And if it was up to her, she would strive to do just that.

She snickered at the direction her thoughts were headed. Never once in her wildest dreams had she imagined that she would once try to be _nice _to Severus Snape. And yet here she was, stuck fulfilling an impossible mission with Snape as her only ally, and she was trying to make it an enjoyable experience.

* * *

AN: Next chapter, there'll finally be some action as Snape and Hermione go Horcrux-hunting at last.


	4. Chapter 4

AN: Dumbledore's death happened just as it happened in canon - with Draco enabling the Death Eaters to get into the school through the Vanishing Cabinet and with Snape killing him. The only difference is that Dumbledore died before succeeding to retrieve the cave/locket Horcrux.

Chapter Four

'Honestly, Severus. You have been staring at that map for the past half an hour. Do you not think it would be more productive to just take the sword and go?'

Snape paused his observation of the map just long enough to throw the portrait a menacing glance. 'I cannot 'just take the sword and go', Headmaster, as you know perfectly well. I will have to collect the girl first.'

'The girl has a name, Severus.'

'As if I could forget such a laughable name.' Dumbledore's portrait coughed. Snape shot it another annoyed glance. 'What is it now?'

Another muffled cough came from the portrait. It sounded suspiciously like 'Snivellus'.

Snape abruptly stood up and rolled up the map. 'Very well, you daft old painting.'

The painted Dumbledore smiled as he watched Snape take Gryffindor's sword from its case and then floo out of the office.

* * *

Over the past few days, Hermione had managed to settle into a comfortable routine. She got up early in the morning to eat breakfast and then locked herself up in the kitchen, surrounded by piles of books. She had already covered some of the darker books in her search for Horcruxes, and she had encountered some really nasty stuff. Once, she'd been tempted to run out of the kitchen and up the stairs to the bathroom to vomit, having just read about a particularly gross ritual that involved cutting out an enemy's heart.

She was immensely grateful for Dumbledore's notes on Horcruxes, for they provided information that she hadn't been able to find in even the most evil of the books. She cross-referenced the descriptions in the books with Dumbledore's scribbles, making notes of her own as she went along. Fairly soon, she had created a reasonably large database on Horcruxes.

Snape flooed into Grimmauld Place almost every night – whenever the circumstances allowed him to get away from the school. He then sat down at the kitchen table with her to review the day's discoveries. The situation would have been almost homely hadn't it been for Voldemorts imminent rise looming like a dark shadow over their every action.

Now, two weeks into the new school year, her familiar routine was broken as the fireplace in the kitchen lit up with bright green flames, and Snape stepped out into the room, carrying in his arms something wrapped in an old cloak. She quickly got up.

Snape unwrapped the object in his arms and Hermione caught a glimpse of sparkling rubies. He'd taken the sword of Gryffindor. This could only mean one thing: he had found a Horcrux.

'You've found one?' she shrieked, dashing over to the Professor and taking the sword from his arms. It was surprisingly heavy.

'Yes, I think I have,' Snape replied, looking around the kitchen as though searching for something.

She gently put Gryffindor's sword onto the kitchen table, a feeling of anticipation building up in her chest. 'Which one?'

'I don't know which one, though I don't expect it to be the snake.' She noticed his voice sounded agitated and chipped. He opened a cupboard and pulled a green backpack out of it. 'It's in the cave Professor Dumbledore mentioned, if you can recall that.'

She nodded vigorously. 'Are we going there now?'

Snape, who had been emptying the backpack of its contents, paused in his ministrations and turned to look at her. His eyes bored into her own.

'Yes,' he said. 'We will be going there now. But I must warn you, Miss Granger, that this will not be easy. It may even be dangerous. If you don not want to come along, now would be the time to say so.'

'Of course I want to come along!' she replied, falling on her knees to pull her shoes out from underneath a cabinet. 'It's as much my mission as yours.'

Snape gave a 'hmm' that sounded suspiciously sceptical. She chose not to comment on it. Having finally managed to pull on her shoes, she scrambled up and took her coat from where it was hanging over one of the kitchen chairs.

'We should take the sword,' Snape said, staring at the thing thoughtfully. He pulled out his wand and pointed it at the weapon. Nothing happened. Snape muttered something under his breath. It sounded suspiciously like a curse. 'It's immune to Shrinking Charms,' he continued, louder.

'Then we should just take the Horcrux with us and destroy it here.'

'I suppose.' He didn't sound very happy at the prospect of leaving the sword behind. He flung the backpack onto the table and began filling it with shrunken objects that he had taken from his pockets.

'What are you putting in there?' she inquired, gazing at it curiously.

'Some things that might help us if we encounter unexpected ... obstacles.'

Hermione felt slightly disappointed when he didn't elaborate on that statement. 'Fine. Don't tell me.'

Snape, having just shut the bag, turned to glare at her. 'If you are going to behave like an ignorant teenager you can stay here.'

'I'm not behaving like an ignorant teenager.'

'You are.'

'But –'

'You will quit whining and that is final. Now shut you trap if you still desire to accompany me.'

Hermione reluctantly obeyed Snape's command. She bristled at not being allowed to know what he was taking. Still, she didn't wish to upset Snape any further, for fear that he might decide to retrieve the Horcrux without her, and that was the very last thing she wanted to happen.

She followed Snape through the dimly lit hallway, past the portrait of Mrs Black. She walked carefully so as not to lose her footing on the threadbare carpet. Snape threw open the front door and a rush of cold air greeted her. She nearly collided with Snape's back when he abruptly halted in the door opening. Hermione was just about to ask what in the name of Merlin he was stopping for when she noticed he was scanning the square. _Ah, looking for enemies then_.

Apparently none were in sight, for a few moments later Snape had marched down the steps that led to 12, Grimmauld Place, leaving her to close the door behind her and hurry after him. They walked for a while until they reached a narrow and deserted alley. Here Snape turned and addressed her.

'I trust you know how to Apparate?'

She nodded.

'Good. You will need to take my arm.'

She nodded again, and Snape, after glancing around to make sure they were still alone, sureptitiously raised his wand. She reached out towards him, and when her hand touched rough wool, she closed her fingers around his robe-clad arm. The next moment, her surroundings had become a blur and she was spinning helplessly, her only touchstone Snape's solid arm, to which she clung tightly. Then her feet landed on the ground and the nausea she had been feeling diminished somewhat.

When she had regained enough of her composure to pay attention to something else than the lingering feeling of qeasiness, she looked up and took in her surroundings.

They were standing on a high outcrop of rock, surrounded by the sea at all sides. There was an enormous, dark cliff nearby that sent shivers down her spine from just looking at it. She glanced at Snape.

'It's here?'

'Yes, right over there.' He pointed at a thin slit in the cliff. Hermione swallowed thickly.

'I take it we'll have to swim?'

Snape nodded and cast several water-repelling Charms on their clothes and the backpack. She doubted it would completely keep the sea water away, but it might help, even if just a little bit.

They descended the rock, heading towards the sea. The boulders closest to the cliff were slippery with the sea water and she had to be careful not to slip. When they had reached the last of the boulders, Snape shrugged off his cloak, shrunk it, and put it inside his pocket. She did the same to her coat. They lit their wands, clenched it between their teeth and slid into the water. It was icily cold.

They soon reached the fissure in the cliff and swam through it. It took them into a dark tunnel, partly filled with water. She felt glad it wasn't high tide.

After they had swam for quite a while, and her fingers and toes were beginning to turn numb, they finally reached the cave Dumbledore had told them about. They clambered up a few stone steps and finally had solid ground beneath their feet once again. Shivering, Hermione cast a warming Charm. Snape did the same.

They began going through the cave, looking for anything that might resemble an entrance. Hermione had no clue what she was looking for, and apparently, nor did Snape. All he did was walk around the cave, every now and then pausing to touch a part of the cave wall. After about a quarter of an hour had passed, Hermione knew she needed to ask.

'Professor?'

Snape didn't look away from the piece of wall he was studying. 'Yes, Miss Granger?'

'What exactly are we looking for?'

'A passageway of some sort,' Snape said, frustratedly. 'It has to be around here somewhere.'

Hermione wanted to ask how he knew the passageway was there, but felt it would be better not to break his concentration. Instead, she walked over to where Snape was standing and joined him in his inspection of the cave wall. She didn't think the wall here looked any different from that of the spot she'd just been examining, but apparently Snape had found something.

'I think the entrance is here,' he said. She couldn't keep from staring at Snape – she'd never heard him _uncertain_.

'So what do we do now?' she asked cautiously. Snape only shook his head, raised his wand and muttered an incantation. For a moment an arched outline became visible, shining bright in the dark cave. Then it was gone again.

Snape sighed, put his wand away and continued his observation of the cave wall. Hermione didn't really want to disturb him, but she hated feeling this clueless.

'Professor?' she ventured. 'What are you doing?'

'I am trying to remember something, Miss Granger,' he snapped. 'Perhaps, if you would be kind enough to be quiet for a moment, I might actually succeed.'

She abruptly shut up, leaving Snape to unravel the secret of the passageway on his own. He remained silent for several awfully long moments more, and then, finally, he spoke so softly she thought she might have imagined it, if it hadn't been for his lips moving.

'Aha. I see.'

'What is it?' she asked eagerly.

'This passageway reminds me of something I have seen before,' he said, taking out his wand once more. 'Something the Dark Lord once showed his followers. Now, if I recall correctly ...'

He rolled up the sleeve of his left arm, and Hermione caught a glimpse of the Dark Mark before he pointed his wand at his forearm.

He muttered something she didn't quite catch, but the next moment a cut had appeared on his arm. The blood oozed out of it and she flinched involuntarily. Snape pressed his forearm against the cave wall, and the passageway reappeared. This time, it remained in place even as he pulled back his arm.

'You did it!'

Snape merely used his wand to close the cut and then stepped through the passageway, looking over his shoulder to see if she was still following him. She was.

They had entered a high-ceilinged cavern, and they were standing at the edge of what appeared to be a great, dark lake. The only light that penetrated the darkness was a faint greenish glow that shone far away from what appeared to be the middle of the lake. They held up their lighted wands a bit higher.

'Follow me, and do not touch the water,' Snape snapped, before setting off into the darkness. She stumbled after him, trying not to touch the water. This place gave her the creeps.

They walked and walked, never being able to see more than a few metres ahead. Once again, she found herself unable to spot anything out of the ordinary, but Snape appeared more trained in discovering hidden things than she was. At long last he halted at what seemed to be an ordinary spot of bank, and she stood next to him.

Snape groped about in what looked like thin air. He looked quite comical standing there, flaying his arms about, but Hermione knew better than to laugh out loud. Moments later any desire to snicker was quenched as Snape's left hand closed around something solid. He tapped his fist with his wand, and a thick, green chain became visible.

'How did you manage to find that?' she asked, astonished. Snape didn't grace her with an answer, instead electing to tap his fist once more. The chain began sliding through his hand.

She stared at where the chain disappeared into the black water of the lake, a strange tension building up in her chest. Moments later, a small, ghastly green boat broke to the surface. She looked at it, mesmerized. The boat came floating towards them. It reached the bank on which they were standing, and she noticed that it seemed to be rather on the small side.

'Will we even be able to fit in together?' she wondered out loud.

'We will manage,' Snape said gruffly from her right. He had dropped the chain to the ground. 'After you, Miss Granger.'

She climbed into the boat, shuffling all the way to the front so as to take up the least space. Snape swung a leg into the boat. Just as he was about to get in, however, she felt a sudden ripple of force sweep over the boat, and Snape was thrown on his back.

'Professor!' she exclaimed, looking over the edge of the boat. To her relief, Snape was already getting back to his feet. 'What happened?'

Snape did not answer, instead making a second attempt to climb into the boat. Once more, he was thrown off his feet. When he got up this time, she noticed he looked considerably redder in the face.

'Get out of the boat, Miss Granger!' he barked, and she hurried to obey. She half climbed, half fell out of the boat, and as soon as she was standing on the bank, Snape stepped into the boat. This time, nothing happened. Snape looked at the vessel thoughtfully for a few seconds, then said: 'It would seem that only one of us is able to get into the boat at any time. You will wait here while I retrieve the Horcrux. You will not, under any circumstance, touch the water. You will stay here unless you are in immediate danger.'

She wanted to protest that she had every bit as much the right to get the Horcrux as he did, but the boat had already taken off with Snape in it. She watched as Snape slowly crossed the lake, his outline getting harder to discern as the boat distanced itself from the bank. She eventually heard a very dull thud and concluded that Snape had reached whatever was in the middle of the lake. She stood on her tiptoes in an attempt to see what was going on there, but what she saw then almost made her lose her balance and effectively banned all thoughts of Snape from her mind.

_There is a body in the water!_

She stumbled back, away from the lake, her heart beating rapidly in her chest. She was sure of what she'd seen – there was a body in there. Or bodies. Her breath came in quick, shallow gasps, and she found herself unable to banish the image of that pale face with those empty eye sockets from her mind. Was that what would happen to Snape and her if they failed?

She forced herself to take a few deep breaths and tore her eyes away from the now smooth surface of the water. She peered at the green glow in the middle of the lake, and she thought she could identify Snape's silhouette. He appeared to be bent over something.

Feeling frustrated and useless, she aimed a sharp kick at the cave wall, but the resulting pain only served to heighten her sense of uselessness. She sighed deeply and allowed herself to slide down the wall and sit on the bank. Here she proceeded to stare off into the distance, trying to discern what was happening in the middle of the water. So she sat for a long time, just waiting and thinking.

Her feet and hands had once again gone numb with cold, and her back was beginning to hurt from its careless treatment. Just when she began wondering whether she should throw Snape's warnings to the wind and take a walk around the lake, a terrifying scream ripped through the silence. She jumped up, somehow feeling certain that the scream was Snape's, and that he was in serious trouble.

She fumbled around wildly, looking for something that would get her to the middle of the lake. She couldn't fly: she didn't have a broom and she wasn't aware of any spells that would allow her to fly without one. Swimming wasn't an option – somehow she doubted the bodies in the lake would allow her to trespass. The only safe means to get to reach the green glowing area appeared to be the boat.

Breathing quickly, she aimed her wand at the boat, hoping with all her might that this would work.

'Accio boat!' she yelled, and pointed her wand at the middle of the lake. She knew immediately that she had succeeded – the boat began floating towards her. Was that a mistake on Voldemort's part? Or was she walking eyes open into a trap?

Instinctively, she knew it did not matter. Snape needed her help, and she wouldn't be stopped by the tricks of a psychopath with an over-inflated ego.

Even though the things in the water didn't attack her outright, she could sense their unease at her actions. They were floating closer to the surface now, and more of them began grouping near the bank of the lake. She desperately tried to ignore them.

The boat had reached the bank and she hurriedly climbed into it. It immediately took off, starting to cross the lake at an excruciatingly slow pace.

'Come on,' she said, as though she could force the boat forwards by sheer willpower. 'Come on.'

Steadily the boat moved on, floating ever closer to the green glow in the middle of the lake. She was now able to make out the presence of what looked to be a small island in the middle of the lake. In the middle of the island stood a stone basin, and Hermione realized that it was the origin of the green glow. The island appeared to be otherwise deserted, save for Professor Snape, who was –_ oh Merlin _– crawling towards the edge of the lake and reaching out to touch the water.

'No!' she screamed, standing up so quickly the boat nearly toppled over and she spent a few intense moments keeping it steady. 'Don't touch it!' Snape paid her no heed. Whether it was because he couldn't hear her or just didn't want to she did not know. The boat finally bumped against the edge of the island and she jumped out of it, feeling wild panic take over her mind. She reached Snape just as he was about to lunge for the water. Falling to her knees, she reached out and forcefully pulled his hand back.

'No ...' Snape muttered, and she felt shocked as she realized how weak he sounded. 'Please ... water ...'

'Water. Yes, I'll get you some. Don't worry, Professor, you're going to be okay.' Privately, she felt as though they'd never been in a worse predicament, but it wouldn't do to lose control now – who knew what might happen when Snape was left to his own devices in his current state. She rapidly conjured a glass, pointed her wand at it and whispered '_Aguamenti_'.

Cool, clear water flooded from the tip of her wand into the glass – and then disappeared again.

'_Aguamenti_!' she repeated, a bit more forcefully this time. Once again, the glass momentarily filled with water – and then the liquid disappeared again. 'No, this can't be right. _Aguamenti. Aguamenti!_'

She was finally forced to conclude that something or someone – _Voldemort _– had rendered it impossible to conjure water while on the island. At her side, Snape was having increasing trouble breathing and Hermione was faced with a wholly new problem. How on Earth would she be able to get the pair of them out of the cave safely?

Cursing loudly, she rolled Snape onto his back.

'I'm sorry, Professor, but I can't think of anything else to do. _Petrificus Totalus._' Something flashed briefly in Snape's eyes – she thought it might be fear – and then he stiffened and instantly became plank-like. She cast a locomotor Charm and lifted Snape into the boat. He didn't exactly get in in the most graceful fashion, but the point was he was safely in the boat. She felt somewhat guilty about hexing Snape, but she couldn't risk having him fall out of the boat in his maddened state.

She strode towards the basin, looked into it, and was relieved to find that their efforts hadn't been for naught. A locket was lying at the bottom of the stone basin. She grabbed it and put it into her pocket. Then she hurried back to the boat.

Taking a deep breath, she jumped into the vessel, fully expecting the enchantments that rested on it to knock her right back out of it.

Except that they didn't.

She scrambled up, marvelling at her ability to be in the boat at the same time as Snape. Her excitement quickly faded away as she realized something far worse had happened. All around them, pale bodies were moving towards the tiny boat that had once again begun floating across the lake.

A pale hand clung to the side of the boat, and she screamed in horror.

'Stupefy!' she shouted, pointing her wand at the hand. It let go, but the rest of what she could now identify as Inferi were rapidly closing in on them. 'Stupefy!' she repeated, as yet another face peered over the edge of the boat. 'Stupefy!'

It wasn't enough. There were simply too many of them to Stun them all. What should she do? Surely Snape would know – but he was still petrified, and she couldn't risk taking the hex off now – oh, what should she do?

She racked her brain for the tiniest piece of information, _anything _that might help her battle the undead monsters around them. She was certain she'd read about their weakness somewhere ... if only she could remember it! Wasn't it ... wasn't it ...

'Fire!' she exclaimed in delight. As it so happened, fire was a specialty of her. She waved her wand, and moments later she and Snape were surrounded by a small ring of fire. It would probably be better to lay the ring around the entire boat, but even this tiny lasso was already draining her of every last bit of her strength. She could only hope that it would last until they reached the bank.

Her idea seemed to be working. The Inferi still floated close to the boat, but they were no longer attempting to get in. Hermione tried hard not to look at their empty faces. She could feel her wand arm shaking with the effort of maintaining the ring of fire, but they had almost reached the bank.

She only dared to lift the spell when she had dragged Snape safely onto the bank. She carefully watched the lake for any sign of movement, but the Inferi seemed to have given up on chasing them.

Sparing no time for relieved thoughts, she turned back to Snape and lifted the hex. He immediately sat up, and one thing became very clear – Snape was _not _pleased.

'Miss Granger! What do you think you are doing? Petrifying me and – ' He had to stop here, for a loud cough wrecked his body.

'Professor! Don't move so much!' she warned, helping him sit up straight. 'And I apologize for petrifying you. I simply saw no other way to get us both across the lake. Of course, I hadn't expected those Inferi to attack and – '

'The Inferi?' Snape looked faintly surprised and very angry. 'How did you know how to chase them away?'

'I read it somewhere,' she clarified rushedly. 'Can you stand, Professor? Because I would love nothing better than to get out of here.'

Snape gave another terrible cough, but nodded anyway. She stood up, seized one of his arms and half-pulled him up. He staggered for a moment, but managed to remain upright. She kept a hold of his arm and began guiding him back towards the passageway, fervently praying that the Inferi would remain in the water.

The walk seemed much longer than it had on the way to the lake, though she partly attributed this to Snape's weight as he leaned on her and partly to her own exhaustion. At long last they reached the part of wall where she believed the passageway to be – only there was no sign of it now.

'Professor,' she whispered, an edge of panic to her voice. 'The passageway is gone.'

Snape grunted, extracted his wand and once again pointed it at his forearm. She felt awful for letting herself allow him to mutilate his body when he was already in such a bad shape, but the damage had been done. Snape moved his forearm over the wall and the passageway reappeared. They stumbled into the antechamber.

'Do you think you'll be able to swim?' she asked him, finally letting go of his arm, though she missed its solid presence the moment she let go.

'Yes, yes,' he snapped. 'I will be fine. Just make haste, Miss Granger.'

She had just descended the first of the steps when a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

'Wait. Do we have the Horcrux?'

'Yes, I took it from the basin.'

'Good. Now move on.'

She allowed herself to slide into the water. It was freezing and dark, and she regretted not having had the presence of mind to cast a _Lumos_. Behind her, she could hear Snape descend into the water as well. So far, so good.

They swam back through the dark tunnel and the fissure, and finally reached the outcrop of rock where they had first arrived. Hermione was somewhat shocked to discover darkness had already fallen around them; they'd been in the cave for far longer than she'd realized. She climbed onto the rock, then looked behind her and saw Snape struggling to get onto it as well. She extended a hand but he ignored it in what she perceived to be an inane attempt at preserving his dignity. At long last he stood atop the rock, panting heavily.

She seized Snape's arm once more, and this time it was she who led the way as they Apparated back to London.

They reappeared in the narrow alley they had left from. It was still deserted.

Snape faltered and she reached out to keep him from falling.

'I am perfectly able to stand on my own, Miss Granger,' he sneered. 'Kindly take your hands off my person.'

She sighed audibly but pulled her hands back. Why did Snape have to be incredibly hard to handle?

It took them much longer to travel the distance between the alley and 12, Grimmauld Place this time than it had on their way to the cave. Snape was advancing slowly, and his breathing was quick and ragged, yet he insisted he was perfectly capable of walking on his own. Hermione knew protests would fall on deaf ears. When they finally managed to get to the house, Snape unlocked the door and went in first. She followed close behind, shutting the door after her. Snape was already halfway through the hallway on his way to the kitchen when it happened.

The grey, undead version of Dumbledore had risen up from the carpet and was rapidly advancing towards Snape. The figure's face was just as sunken and fleshless as it had been before, and the empty eyesockets made for a terrible, macabre sight.

Realizing what had to be done, she stepped forward, willing her treacherous heart to be quiet.

'I didn't kill you.'

On the word 'kill' the figure abruptly exploded in a great cloud of dust. Coughing, she closed her eyes and waited for the worst of it to pass. When most of the dust appeared to be gone, she finally dared to open her eyes again. An unwelcome sight greeted her.

Snape had apparently slid down the wall and was now half-sitting, half-lying on the floor, his sallow skin a sickly pale colour. She rushed over to him. This time, he did not protest.

Hermione put her arm around his waist and began to drag the man upright. Snape's efforts to help her accomplish this were more of a complication than anything, but she didn't tell him to be still. A vague scent of herbs and potions ingredients as well as sweat reached her nose, but it wasn't an unpleasant smell. She wondered faintly how much of his time Snape still spent on brewing potions.

Somehow she managed to heave Snape up, and once he was standing, he found himself capable of slowly walking down the stairs to the kitchen, even though he was still leaning heavily against the wall. Once they were in the kitchen, he collapsed onto a chair.

'Show me the Horcrux,' he croaked.

'Are you sure – '

'Just give it to me, Miss Granger.'

She reached into her pocket and extracted the locket.

'It's Hermione,' she said, as she handed it to him.

Snape held her gaze for a few moments before returning his attention to the locket in his hand. She followed his gaze and immediately noticed something was terribly wrong.

The locket was suspiciously small in Snape's hand, and oddly bereft of any symbols or decorations.

'This is not a Horcrux,' Snape said, turning the locket over. 'It's just ... a locket.'

She watched as exhaustion swept over him and his fingers loosened around the locket. She watched as the tiny golden thing tumbled out of Snape's hand and fell onto the floor. When it opened and a scrap of paper fell out of it, she bent down and took it.

_To the Dark Lord_

_I know I will be dead long before you read this_

_but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret._

_I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can._

_I face death in the hope that when you meet your match,_

_you will be mortal once more._

_R.A.B.*_

When she looked up again, she noticed Snape was observing her.

'What does it say?'

Wordlessly, she handed him the note and waited as he read it. When he'd finished reading, he folded up the piece of paper again and looked down at where she was still sitting on the floor.

She swallowed. 'So, someone took the real Horcrux?'

'I do believe that is the definition of 'stealing', _Hermione_.'

Her heart inexplicably leaped.

'R.A.B.,' she said slowly. 'I'm certain I've seen those initials before, not too long ago ...'

She looked up, into the eyes of the Slytherin opposite her, and it took her back to another Slytherin, to a door with scratched paint and a pompous little sign.

'Regulus!' she said, just as Snape snarled 'Black!'. And then, as another realization washed over her: 'Oh, no!'

'What is it?' Snape inquired.

'I know where that locket is ... that is to say, I know where it was several years ago.'

Snape quirked an eyebrow. 'And where would that be?'

'It was in an upstairs cabinet in this very house ...' she murmured, passing a hand over her eyes. 'No one could open it, so we threw it away ... I swear I didn't know what it was.'

'This is bad news indeed,' Snape sighed. 'If you truly threw it away, it could be anywhere by now.'

'Don't I know it,' she sniffed. They sat in silence for a while, Hermione still with her hand over her face. Why had they been so careless? Then again, it had seemed like just another piece of pure-blood junk to them ...

'Wait ...' she said slowly, removing her hand from her face. 'There is a chance the locket is still around.'

Snape's head snapped up, and his black eyes met hers. 'How so?'

'Kreacher. He used to try and steal Black family heirlooms all the time. Maybe he managed to salvage the locket as well.'

She stared into his eyes, seeing the same emotions in them that she was feeling herself; frustratedness, anxiety and just a flicker of hope. She wondered when she had learned to read the what was in Snape's eyes.

'Do you know where he kept them?'

She nodded. 'Yes. He slept underneath the boiler in a cupboard.'

They both rose, and Hermione led the way to Kreacher's cupboard, her heart beating quickly with anticipation.

* * *

*Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Chapter 28, page 569.

AN: Long chapter is long. :)


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

_They both rose, and Hermione led the way to Kreacher's cupboard, her heart beating quickly with anticipation._

She indicated the cupboard to Snape and he quickly pulled open the door. They bent down to get a better look at the inside of the cupboard. Save for a dirty, old blanket that Kreacher had used to sleep on, it seemed empty. Snape reached out, grabbed the blanket, pulled it out and shook it viciously. All that tumbled out of it were crumbs.

Snape flung the blanket onto the floor. 'It was too good to be true.'

She took a deep breath.

'Do you reckon Kreacher might know where the locket went?'

'For all I know it might still be in his possession,' Snape muttered.

'Who does he ... _belong_ _to_ now, anyway?'

Snape scowled weakly at her obvious disfavour of the term 'belong to'. She wasn't too surprised: the S.P.E.W. hadn't exactly made her popular with many people. Looking back on it, she was willing to admit she might have pushed her point a bit too far – but then, the situation was just so _unfair_!

'I have already told you he belongs to Bellatrix now,' Snape said, shaking her out of her reverie.

'Oh, yes, I remember now ...'

She got up from her crouched position on the floor and began pacing through the room.

'So, Kreacher only answers to Bellatrix?' she continued.

'Technically, Kreacher has to take orders of any member of the Black family – though, ultimately, Bellatrix has the most authority over him.'

She continued pacing, the shattered pieces of information and fragmented memories inside her head slowly combining into an idea.

'Kreacher would have to answer to Mrs. Black, correct?'

'Well, yes. But while house-elves are willing to do a lot, they don't generally answer to corpses, as I'm sure you are aware.'

'Yes, yes ... but I'm not talking about a corpse. I'm talking about – '

'The portrait,' Snape interrupted her, having caught onto her idea.

'Do you think it would work?'

Snape's black eyes pierced into her. 'It might.'

They quickly made their way out of the kitchen. As they were walking up the stairs, Hermione could no longer resist the temptation to ask.

'Why do you think he did it?'

'Who?' Snape asked, frowning.

'Regulus. I thought he supported Voldemort.'

Snape looked away.

'Even Death Eaters change their minds sometimes. It does not usually turn out well.'

She bit her lip.

The portrait of Mrs. Black was, for once, quiet, and Hermione suspected she was sleeping. Snape flicked his wand and the curtains parted, effectively waking Sirius' mother – if she hadn't been awake yet.

'_Filth_!' the portrait screeched. '_How dare you intrude upon_ – '

'Be quiet,' Snape snapped, and something in his tone caused the old woman to shut up. Snape glanced at her, and she edged towards the portrait.

'Mrs. Black?'

'What do you want, you filthy mudblood?'

She swallowed thickly and tried not the let the insult get to her.

'We need your help.'

Mrs. Black let out a hysterical cackle, rendering her already unpretty face even uglier.

'_Help? _You want my _help?_ As if I'd ever help someone like _you_.'

'Listen, Walburga,' Snape snarled, and the portrait immediately became quiet again. Hermione thought that both Mrs. Black and she were wondering where Snape had learned that name. 'You will want to hear this.'

Mrs. Black looked down at Hermione a little disdainfully, but at least she was silent this time.

'It's actually about your son, Regulus,' Hermione continued shakily.

At the mention of Regulus' name, Mrs. Black's eyes widened. 'What about him?'

Hermione looked over to Snape for help. Catching the hint, he said: 'Mrs. Black, you know your son joined the Death Eaters.'

Mrs. Black's mouth hardened almost imperceptibly. 'Yes. He died running away from them.'

'Only he didn't,' Hermione cut in. Snape reached inside his robe and extracted Regulus' note.

'What is that?' Mrs. Black inquired.

'It's a note,' Hermione continued. 'Why don't you read it?'

Snape held up the scrap of paper and she watched as Mrs. Black quickly scanned the note. Her eyes widened as she read on. When she finally finished, she stared at Snape.

'Where did you ...'

'Regulus took Voldemort's real Horcrux, Salazar Slytherin's locket,' Snape began, 'and replaced it with a fake one containing this note.'

He stepped closer to the portrait and looked Mrs. Black's eyes.

'Mrs. Black, it is vital that we get a hold of that locket.'

Mrs. Black seemed to visibly crumble down in front of their eyes. Her shoulders slumped, her eyes closed – everything about her spoke of surrender.

'How can I help you?'

'We need you to summon Kreacher.'

Mrs. Black's eyes snapped open again. 'I don't know if he will still answer to me.'

'You could try,' Snape suggested. Mrs. Black nodded and took a deep breath.

'Kreacher!' she screeched.

Hermione knew that it had worked as soon as the words left Mrs. Black's mouth. Seconds after her summons, Kreacher appeared in the hallway with a loud POP. When he saw who else besides his beloved mistress were present, his eyes widened.

'Mistress!' he exclaimed, scurrying over to the portrait. 'Mudbloods and half-breeds! We must send them from your noble house, we must – '

'Be quiet, Kreacher,' Mrs. Black ordered, and the house-elf immediately went silent. Hermione marvelled at the power the aged portrait still held over the old house-elf.

'Kreacher, did my son ever entrust you with a locket?'

Kreacher let out a pained shriek and slumped down onto the floor, shaking with uncontrolled sobs. 'Kreacher failed, Kreacher failed! It was the last thing Master Regulus ever ordered Kreacher, and Kreacher couldn't even do it!'

'Kreacher,' Mrs. Black said gently but resolutely. 'Stop crying and get up.'

The house-elf did as she ordered, though his eyes were still wet and filled with tears that threatened to leak over at the slightest obstacle.

'What did Regulus order you to do?'

'Master ... Master Regulus told Kreacher to destroy the locket ... and to never tell his mistress!'

At this, Kreacher began to loudly bang his head against the wall. Hermione was about to reach out and pull him back, when Mrs. Black's voice shattered the silence.

'Stop that, Kreacher. It's all right. You haven't done anything wrong.'

Kreacher stopped banging his head against the wall, though he stayed awfully close to it.

'Ask him what he did with the locket,' Snape prompted.

'Kreacher, what did you do with the locket?' Mrs. Black repeated. The house-elf looked up at the portrait.

'Kreacher tried everything to destroy the locket, everything, but nothing would work! The locket would not open! And so Kreacher punished himself, and then he tried again, and when he failed, he tried again ... but he couldn't destroy it! Kreacher failed to obey Master Regulus' orders!'

The elf began banging his head against the wall again.

'Stop it!' Mrs. Black shrieked, and Kreached backed away from the wall, sobbing uncontrollably.

'Listen, Kreacher,' Hermione began, and the house-elf eyed her wearily. 'It will all be right – it will all be forgiven – just tell us where the locket is.'

'Kreacher would never, never tell a filthy mudblood like you – '

'Kreacher,' Mrs. Black interrupted calmly. 'Where is the locket now?'

Kreacher looked pained, but he still answered. 'Kreacher always carries it with him now ... he hopes that he might find a way to destroy it ...'

'Give the locket to them, Kreacher, and it will be destroyed.'

Kreacher stared at the portrait, eyes bulging.

'Kreacher cannot, Kreacher must not! Mistress Bellatrix told Kreacher to never hand _anything _over to a filthy mudblood ...'

'Kreacher,' Mrs. Black said softly. 'I am asking you to do this not for myself, but for my son. For Regulus. If you truly want to destroy the locket and obey Regulus' final orders, you will hand it to these people.'

Kreacher looked torn, and for a moment Hermione feared he would Disapparate straight out of the house and back to Bellatrix, and she tried not to imagine the disastrous consequences of that. Kreacher had seen her, and he had seen Snape – knew that the Death Eater was on her side ...

Kreacher reached inside the folds of the filthy rag he was wearing, and slowly extracted the locket. Snape reached out, and with a look of utmost contempt, Kreacher let the locket fall into his hand.

'Kreacher,' Mrs. Black's portrait spoke. 'I forbid you to ever mention anything about what has happened here today to anyone. You are not to tell anyone where you've been, what you've done and who you've seen. Do you understand?'

Kreacher nodded slowly. A tear dripped down his nose.

Mrs. Black gave him a small smile. 'You did well, Kreacher, truly well. Regulus would have been proud.'

Kreacher nodded, and, with a loud POP, took his leave.

'Thank you,' Hermione told the portrait, and Mrs. Black closed her eyes in acknowledgement, then slowly walked out of her frame.

Hermione looked back at Snape, and the locket he was still holding. The difference between Voldemort's locket and the Regulus' was very noticable: this locket was much larger and heavier, appeared to be made of real gold and had an ornate 'S' on it.

Snape's eyes met hers, and she knew they were both thinking the same.

Down in the kitchen, Snape took Gryffindor's sword from the table, put the locket down on the spot the sword had previously occupied, aimed – and stopped.

'Perhaps we should try to open it first.'

'We already tried that the summer we cleaned the house out,' she reminded him. 'It wouldn't open, no matter what we did.'

Snape frowned and cast a few quick spells on the locket. They appeared to confirm what she had already told him, for he sighed deeply.

'Maybe it opens if you instruct it to do so in Parseltongue,' she ventured. 'Slytherin was a Parselmouth, after all.'

'An excellent suggestion, were it not for the fact that neither of us can speak Parseltongue. Unless there's something you haven't told me?'

He looked questioningly at Hermione. She shook her head.

Snape smirked, said: 'That's what I thought', and turned his attention back to the locket. He picked up the locket, fumbled around with it some more, then sighed deeply once again. 'Well, since there doesn't appear to be any other way ...'

He put the locket down onto the kitchen floor, grabbed Gryffindor's sword and aimed.

'Are you sure –'

Her words fell on deaf ears, and the next moment Snape stabbed the locket with all his might. The force of the impact launched the thing several metres away, but it appeared to have sprung open. Snape rushed to the place the locket had landed, preparing to stab it a second time. Then something made him freeze on the spot.

Hermione, being located at the wrong end of the kitchen, had no idea what had compelled the man to stop his attack on the Horcrux, but she was certain of one thing, and that was that leaving the locket open would have bad consequences. She had reached Snape and the locket within moments.

Snape was still staring at the locket; transfixed, and Hermione could not help but follow his gaze to the Horcrux on the floor. What she saw made her draw breath sharply. _The locket had eyes. _

'Stab it, Professor,' she commanded, her voice more shaky than she would have liked it to be. 'Get it over with.'

Then an icy voice came from deep within the locket, and a coldness clawed at her heart.

'_Severus Snape ... I know your deepest desires ...'_

Snape appeared mortified. The sword was dangling loosely from one of his hands.

'_I could give you what you want most of all. I have powers that extend far beyond the imagination of mere mortals. I even have the power ... to reverse death.'_

'Stab it!' she shrieked, fear freezing her to her spot.

But something horrible was happening inside the locket. Out of the dark eyes, two bubles rose into the air. The bubbles gradually began taking shape. First heads appeared, then shoulders, waists, legs, and the next thing she knew two people were looming over them; a man and a woman. With a start she recognized the man – it was James Potter.

The woman was incredibly beautiful. Fiery red hair framed her face and her startingly green eyes – Harry's eyes. This woman had to be Harry's mother! But then Snape had to have been ...

'_Severus,'_ locket-Lily spoke, and her voice sounded oddly detached, as though she was not completely part of this world. _'You always were a right little failure, and it seems that things have not changed much.'_

There was a loud clang: Gryffindor's sword had slipped from Snape's hand and had fallen onto the floor.

Locket-James snickered at Snape, and she could feel the latter stiffen beside her.

'Professor,' she said, unable to keep the urgency from her voice, 'this is not real. Don't listen to them.'

'_You thought you could win over Lily, didn't you?' _locket-James sneered. _'You should have known better than to try and best me. You are no one, Snivellus, no one, whereas I'm everything. I thwart you even in death!' _

Locket-Lily laughed a horrible, eerie laugh and grabbed a hold of locket-James' shirt, pulling him towards her.

In that instant, Hermione suddenly became very much aware of what was about to happen – and also that she couldn't let Snape see it. She lunged for the sword on the floor, brought it up high above her head, and then, with all the power she could summon, stabbed into the heart of the locket, just as locket-Lily and locket-James' lips met.

The locket let out a blood-curling scream and shattered. The eyes vanished and the silk lining of the locket was smoking slightly.

Next to her, Snape sank to his knees. She allowed the sword to fall onto the floor a second time and knelt down next to the shaken man. For a moment she hesitated, wondering if he would lash out at her if she touched him – but then she decided to throw caution to the wind and just get on with it.

She placed a hand on Snape's back, and, when he didn't recoil, began rubbing in what she hoped to be soothing motions.

'It's gone now,' she told him. The words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

'I have been a fool.' The whisper was barely audible and Hermione had to lean closer to him to catch the next part. 'Allowing myself to get distracted by something so trivial ...'

'We all are blinded by love sometimes,' she muttered, thinking of her newly acquired insights.

That appeared to have been the wrong thing to say. Snape recoiled and stood up so quickly he seemed a blur.

'I am not in love with her.'

She didn't think she had ever heard Snape sound so angry and yet so detached – it was somewhat frightening.

'I didn't mean to imply –'

'Lily Evans is the past,' Snape said, and she noticed he was breathing rather quickly. 'I do not wish to discuss the matter any further.'

And with that he turned and swept towards the fireplace with almost his usual grace. Seconds later, he had disappeared in an explosion of green flames and she was left behind alone, sitting on the cold kitchen floor next to the shattered locket, with more questions than she would ever be able to answer.

* * *

Snape had been in love with Lily Potter. It shouldn't be such a big deal, but somehow, it was.

It made perfect sense. From what she had heard about Harry's mother, she seemed to have been an exceptionally kind and unprejudiced woman. The kind of woman that would not be repulsed by the idea of being friends with a Slytherin – even if she herself was a Gryffindor. But it seemed as though she had chosen James over Snape in the end, and apparently, judging by the locket, the latter had been heart-broken by that.

That did not explain the sudden anger she felt at Lily Potter.

She supposed that it was because Snape had, over the course of the past few weeks, become her ally, her partner. It was only natural that she felt something akin to worry over his current state of mind.

But the definition of 'worry over a partner' did not usually include a sudden inexplicable jealousy of a woman who had been long dead, did it?

* * *

The next morning found her inside Ron's room at the Burrow, in a hopeless attempt to forget – or, at the very least, reconcile with her recently acquired insights.

Ron seemed to have abandoned the chair next to the window in favour of his bed, on which he sat looking blankly at his feet. Her heart clenched unexpectedly as she watched him sit there, completely oblivious to his surroundings.

'Hi Ron,' she said quietly, walking towards the bed. 'Would it be okay if I sat down next to you?'

He didn't reply, but she sat down anyway. The bed was surprisingly soft.

'I should start by telling you that my thoughts are a bit jumbled right now. I've been through a rather lot in the past twenty-four hours, and I feel as though I'm no longer able to tell that what is real from that what my sleep-deprived brain produces.'

She chuckled out loud.

'Look at me. A few weeks shut off from the outside world and I'm already turning delusional.'

She sighed and stared at one of the Quidditch posters on the wall in front of her. Though Ron still hadn't acknowledged her presence, she felt comforted just being near him.

'You're still my friend,' she whispered. 'And I still need you. Even more so now that Harry has gone. We need each other, Ron.'

She took his hand from where it was lying in his lap and squeezed it tightly. Ron continued looking at their feet.

* * *

AN: I apologize for the long delay - I've been away from home.


	6. Chapter 6

AN: I've taken some liberties with _Specialis Revelio_.

* * *

Chapter Six

Severus Snape didn't mind patrolling the Hogwarts corridors in the evening – not at all. As a matter of fact, he found that he rather liked the peace and quiet of the deserted halls at night. No fellow Professors to harass him with questions (or bite a snide comment at him, as had been the fashion lately), and no students to spoil the silence.

Well, almost no students.

'Mr Cauldwell,' he sneered at the unsuspecting boy, who rapidly spun around at the sound of his voice. Snape took a slight pride in seeing the expression of horror he had created on the boy's face. 'What do you think you are doing out in the halls after curfew? And so far away from your common room, too.'

'P-p-professor Snape,' the Hufflepuff stammered. 'I ... I was just ...'

'The eloquence of your answers never ceases to amaze me, Cauldwell.'

The boy flushed and stared down at his feet, refusing to meet Snape's eyes.

'To be honest,' he said quietly, 'I came here to h-hide something the Professors Carrow might have viewed as ... insulting.' He chanced a glance up at Snape's face. Apparently encouraged by what he saw there, he said: 'The Room of Requirement is up here, you see, and it has the ability to transform into this place where –'

'I am well aware of both the Room's location and its capabilities,' Snape snarled. 'You will return to your dormitory at once, Mr Cauldwell. Ten points from Hufflepuff for being out after curfew.'

'Yes, sir,' Cauldwell said, then left the hall at a half-run. Snape frowned. So students were hiding incriminating objects in the Room of Hidden Things now. He could hardly blame them – he would have done the same if he had been a student under the Carrows. He _had _done the same in the past. With vague amusement he recalled the two or three times he'd hidden things in the Room. He wondered if they'd still be there.

He looked around. The tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy was just to his left. He threw a glance at it, and all of a sudden there was this urgent, tugging sense that there was something inside the Room that he needed to take care of, though what it was, he could not say. It was a fragment of a memory, a word, something he had once encountered but not paid attention to.

Unnerved by this sudden feeling, he decided to enter the room. And even if this whole sense of danger turned out to be nothing, well, then he'd at least have had a pleasant trip looking for his own items.

He began walking past the empty stretch of wall, vaguely hoping that no one would walk in on him as he attempted to get into the room. _I want to get into the Room of Hidden Things_, he repeated firmly in his head.

When he had walked past the stretch of wall three times, he stopped and turned around. A door had appeared on the wall. Smirking slightly, he reached out and pulled it open.

The Room was still as impressive as it had been when he was a student; perhaps even more so. After all, the castle's inhabitants had had several more years since then to hide their somewhat more compromising belongings. As a matter of fact, the room was completely filled with them. There were countless cloaks and hats, enough to fill his whole wardrobe – were it not for the fact that they would most likely singe his ears off or nibble at his arms. There were several bottles with dangerous-looking substances in them (he was certain that none of them had _ever _appeared in Hogwarts' Potions curriculum), several banned objects, some of which seemed to be quite recent – thanks to Filch, no doubt – as well as jewels that could be cursed for all he knew.

But most of all, there were books. Stacks and stacks of books, towering over him, the titles of some of which he was sure had been banned from the school for a long time already. It would be impossible to recover his own items from the Room, but he was propelled forwards by the half-remembered danger lurking inside his mind.

He swept into one of the alleyways between the rubbish, at ease just looking around, now and then pausing to look at a particularly strange object. He slipped past a stuffed troll, swerved around several books that were lying in the middle of the path, and finally came to a halt in front of the Vanishing Cabinet.

The Vanishing Cabinet. The one that Draco had used to get the Death Eaters into the school. The one that still remained completely functional.

This, then, was the half-remembered task that had resurfaced in the corridor moments earlier.

Employing a few choice swearwords, he shook his wand from his sleeve, backed off, cast a Shield Charm and then pointed his wand at the Cabinet.

'_Confringo_,' he said, and the Cabinet exploded. A shower of detris fell down, bounced off his Shield Charm and came to rest on the floor. That was one less thing to worry about.

The slight entertainment that the room had presented at first had completely dimmed now that he had stumbled upon the Vanishing Cabinet. He didn't regret destroying it, not at all, but it had reminded him that he could not escape the influence of Voldemort, no matter where he went. Somehow a room to hide things in seemed a lot less appealing when you knew the enemy might use it against you.

His feet had taken him to a section of the room he had never explored before. It seemed somehow darker here, more evil. Though the darkness might be attributed to the particularly high stacks of books in this area, Snape still had no desire to linger in this place. He was just about to turn around and leave the way he had come when something caught his eye.

A tarnished diadem was sitting proudly atop one of the lower piles of books. Though its beauty appeared to have faded somewhat over the years, it still was by no means an ugly thing to behold.

He didn't know what drew him to the diadem. Perhaps it was the oddness of seeing a such a beautiful thing surrounded by all this junk. Perhaps it was the vague feeling of familiarity that washed over him at the sight of it. Perhaps it was the nagging voice in the back of his head that told him something was not _quite _right. Either way, he found himself reaching out for the diadem – that is, until he remembered that it might very well be cursed.

'_Specialis Revelio_,' he commanded, and the next moment, his head almost burst open with a splitting headache. He clutched his hands to his forehead, breathing quickly.

What had happened? _Specialis Revelio _only backfired on its caster when the object it was cast on consisted of something especially evil. This was not something a student of this school could be capable of, be it a potential Death Eater or not.

Deciding not to risk using any more magic around the object, he took off his cloak and wrapped the diadem in it. Having thus secured the object (and, hopefully, prevented any unwanted performances) he began making his way back through the mess. He reached the door leading back to the seventh floor corridor, slipped through it, and was just about to leave for his office when the clearing of a throat made him stop in his tracks.

Turning around slowly, he came face to face with Amycus Carrow. Not a very pleasant sight.

'Snape,' the man said.

His head throbbed painfully. 'Carrow.'

'What's that in your arms?'

Snape involuntarily clutched the diadem closer to him, thinking fast. 'A cursed tea pot. Apparently someone decided to display their new powers.'

Amycus let out a wheezy giggle. 'One of ours, I bet. Why did you take it away, Snape? We might have been able to rid ourselves of a few more Mudbloods with it.'

'Whoever cursed it didn't think to make the curse specific,' he lied. 'In its current state it will affect anyone who touches it. I did not want to risk any of us falling prey to it.'

Carrow nodded slowly. 'I see. A good thing we have you, Snape!' He laughed his wheezy laugh again, passed Snape by, gave him a hearty clap on the shoulder in the process and turned around the corner.

Snape remained standing quietly in the corridor, his posture rigid and his breaths forcibly controlled.

One of these days ...

He continued his way on to Dumbledore's former office, glancing out of several windows as he passed them by. Night had long since fallen over Hogwarts. It was already way past the time he usually visited Grimmauld Place – as a matter of fact, it was so late Miss Granger might have already gone to bed. Perhaps he should just take a look at the diadem alone in his office.

Then again, he had come to value the witch's insights. An insufferable know-it-all she might be, but she was right more often than he cared to admit. He knew he hadn't been kind to her at their previous encounter, but he figured she'd had ample time to cool off. She would probably still be awake, too.

And if she wasn't, well, then she would be soon.

Plus, he had just remembered what had been said in that discussion between the three of them – he, Granger, Dumbledore – so long ago. Still, it seemed impossible that this diadem was the very object they were looking for.

'Albus Dumbledore,' he said to the gargoyles guarding the entrance to what was now his office. Once again, he regretted choosing this specific password – it reminded him too much of things that better went unmentioned for the time being. He had wished to show the old man respect, and that he had, but perhaps he should have shown it in a different way.

And invite the Death Eaters to have tea and a biscuit as they talked about his true loyalties while he was at it.

He pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand and stepped onto the ascending staircase, feeling grateful that he would be spared a climb. When he had reached the top of the stairs, he threw open the door, swept into the office and headed straight for the fireplace. He took a pinch of floo powder and threw it into the fire, trying to ignore his pounding headache.

'12, Grimmauld Place,' he said, and bright green flames flared up. He stepped into them and moments later he was spinning through the floo system, the diadem still clutched tightly to his chest.

* * *

Hermione had taken a long, hot bath before changing into her pyjamas. She had then gone down to the kitchen, had started a fire in the fireplace and had sat down on a rug in front of it, a book firmly in place on her lap and a can of Pumpkin Juice within easy reach. She could hardly imagine a more comfortable situation.

Of course, good things never last.

She was just about to turn a page of her Muggle novel when the flames in the fireplace flashed a bright green. The next moment, a tall man in dark clothes stumbled out of it, stood on her foot, tripped, and smacked face-first onto the kitchen floor. A bundle flew from his arms and landed on the kitchen floor with a decidedly more quiet thud. What appeared to be a diadem rolled out of it.

Hermione jumped up, hopping around one-legged as she clutched her sore foot with both her hands.

'You fool!' she spat at the man on the floor. 'What do you think you're playing at?'

'What am _I _playing at?' the unmistakably angry reply came from below her. 'You should have thought not to sit in front of the _floo entrance_!'

'I wasn't sitting in front of an entrance of any kind!' she snapped back at him. 'I was sitting in front of the fireplace! That's perfectly normal behaviour! And I might add that you never show up this late – how was I to know that you would today?'

Snape muttered something unintelligible and scrambled up.

'Where is the diadem?' he asked in a louder voice, looking around the kitchen.

'Beneath the table,' she groaned. 'Is that your excuse for crushing my foot and spilling my Pumpkin Juice? A silly old crown?'

'Not just any crown,' he said, wrapping his cloak around one hand and retrieving the diadem from beneath the table. 'This one appears to have special qualities. Evil ones.'

Hermione was not impressed.

'You don't show up for days on end,' she said, crossing her arms. 'When you do, it is only to trip over me and wave some tarnished old diadem in my face, in the middle of the night, no less. Excuse me, but I'm not feeling too excited at this particular time. Try again tomorrow?'

Snape sighed deeply. 'Miss Granger –'

'Hermione.'

'Hermione, I apologize for staying away for such a long time without telling you. I realize that it is by no means civil. However, I needed some time to cool off –'

'Indeed you did.'

' – though I realize that is not an excuse. As it is, we have more pressing matters to deal with than a simple quarrel. This diadem – or whatever is in it – is something very evil. I was rewarded with a splitting headache just for casting _Specialis Revelio _on it.'

She felt the anger ebb away, a feeling of curiosity appearing in its place. 'A headache? That's not a very common side-effect.'

'Correct,' Snape said, appearing eager for a chance to change the subject. 'I wanted to take a look at it in my office, but I thought that you might be able to assist me.'

'Assist you?' she repeated, hope flaring up in her chest. Was that a back-handed compliment?

'Yes. Undoubtedly, you recall an earlier conversation regarding a diadem?'

Her throat tightened. Of course. 'Oh.'

'"Oh" indeed.' Snape presented her with the cloak with the diadem in it. She took it and carefully pulled some of the cloak away so that she could look at the headwear.

'Where did you find it?' she asked, wiping some of the dust off the diadem with his cloak.

'In the Room of Hidden Things.'

Her eyes met his, though her fingers didn't pause in their task of cleaning the diadem. 'The what?'

'The Room of Hidden Things. In all actuality, it is the same as the Room of Requirement. It has been used by misbehaving Hogwarts students to hide incriminating objects for centuries. You would not know about it.'

She grinned and reverted her eyes to the diadem. From the corner of her eye, she could see that Snape looked like he was about to speak again, and something in the back of her mind told her it probably was to launch into a full-fledged analysis of the Room of Requirement. However, something much more intriguing had come to her attention. She gasped loudly, nearly dropping the diadem in shock.

'What is it?' Snape sounded worried.

'Look!' she hissed, nodding towards the diadem. 'Look at those letters!'

Snape edged over to her side, peering over her shoulder to look at the diadem.

'I don't see what ... ah.' His gaze had fallen on the tiny words on the diadem. He leaned closer to read them, his hooked nose nearly brushing the wool of the cloak. _'Wit beyond measure is man's greatest treasure_.'

He looked up into her eyes.

'Do you think it's real?' she asked, not able to keep the tone of reverence from her voice. _What were the odds? When would their luck run out?_

'I don't know. There are spells to find that out, of course, but I do not know them. Futhermore,' he added, letting his eyes slide over the diadem, 'I do not wish to risk disturbing whatever might be living inside it.'

She gasped again, suddenly remembering that she might very well be polishing a piece of Voldemort's soul. This time, she did let go of the diadem. Snape was only just able to catch it before it hit the floor.

'You mean ... you think it's another Horcrux? What are the chances of that?'

'Whatever the chances are, I would advise you to exercise some caution around that thing.'

'Sorry ...' she muttered, flushing. 'Still ... How did you find it?'

'I was taking a look inside the Room for other reasons when my eye fell on it.'

'Hm ... you just _happen_ to take a look inside the Room of Hidden Things, where you _happen_ to stumble upon an old diadem, which so _happens _to be one of Voldemort's Horcruxes.'

'I can catch your drift.'

'It just seems too convenient to be true.'

He carefully lowered the diadem onto the table. 'Well, there's only one way to find out if it's a Horcrux. Do you still have the sword?'

She nodded. 'Yes. I put it away in my bedroom after you left it here. I'll just go and get it.'

She rushed out of the kitchen and up several flights of stairs before finally arriving at her bedroom. Panting slightly, she opened the nearest of her bags, threw some socks and shirts out of it, and retrieved the sword. Keeping it pointed away from her, she raced down the stairs again and back to the kitchen, where Snape was already keeping the diadem firmly in place on the table.

'Do you want to do it?' she asked. 'The sword is quite heavy and I'm not sure I'll manage to hit it hard enough ...'

Snape looked at her sceptically but took the sword from her anyway. She assumed his previous position holding the diadem in place, then nodded at him to indicate she was ready. Snape took a deep breath, raised the sword high above his head and then brought it down.

The impact was terrible, and the diadem split into several pieces. A faint cry of pain rung through the kitchen. It appeared to originate from the diadem. A red, blood-like substance began leaking from the diadem.

'Ugh,' she said, pulling her hands away from the thing. 'Perhaps we should refrain from destroying Horcruxes in the kitchen next time.'

Then the impossible happened: Snape laughed. It wasn't a tiny, over-before-you-know-it sound either, but a loud, bark-like laughter. She stared at him in amazed fascination, and this appeared to snap him back to the present. He abruptly closed his mouth, turned his back on her and began to get rid of the shattered diadem. Still she stared at him.

Snape, apparently sensing her eyes on him, snapped 'What is it, Miss Granger?'

She didn't even bother correcting his use of her surname. 'You laughed,' she said, and knew it sounded like an accusation.

'Yes,' Snape snarled, still not looking at her. 'Contrary to popular belief, I _am _human, and am as such capable of laughing.'

'I didn't mean to imply you weren't human.'

'I know that,' he said stiffly.

He had managed to gather the remains of the diadem and threw them uncermoniously in the dustbin.

'We should probably bury them,' he mused. 'Then again, it's only one seventh of the Dark Lord's soul. It's probably not worth the effort.'

She stared.

'It's a _joke_, Miss Granger. Please don't tell me you've never heard one.'

Snape's face had once again resumed its stone-like expression and he was now critically regarding his cloak.

'I might as well throw it away along with that diadem,' he said gruffly. 'The house-elves will never get those stains out of it again.'

'Can I have a look at it?'

He threw the cloak into her general direction and it landed on the floor next to her. Deciding not to let herself be bothered by that, she scooped up the cloak so she could take a closer look at it. The diadem's blood had soaked part of the wool, leaving a huge stain on it. Snape looked to be right about the cloak; she didn't think even the Hogwarts house-elves would be able to get the blood out of it.

When she looked up again, it was to see Snape with one foot already in the fireplace, the sword of Gryffindor held firmly in his hand..

'I will come back soon,' he said, then stepped into the fire and disappeared between the green flames, leaving a slightly befuddled Hermione behind in the kitchen.

Snape had laughed. Had laughed _with _her, even, rather than _at _her. Two months ago she hadn't believed the man capable to even participate in a decent conversation, and now he was _joking_!

* * *

Back inside the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts, Snape stumbled out of the fireplace and headed straight for the chair behind the desk. Once he was properly seated, he leaned his arms on the desk and allowed his head to lean on them.

'Feeling sentimental, Severus?'

'Not now, Dumbledore,' he bit back at the portrait, not bothering to lift his head from his arms.

'Not now? Are you trying to tell me that you have been sentimental at some time in the recent past?'

'You know perfectly well what I meant,' Snape snapped.

'I can assure you I –'

'And don't try to feign ignorance,' he continued, spinning around in his chair to look at the wall with the portraits, 'when we both know you were deliberately misunderstanding me.'

Even in this painted form, there appeared to be a twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes.

'She does like you. You know that, Severus.'

'Be quiet.'

The portrait merely smiled.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

October came and went without any noticeable progress in their hunt for the Horcruxes. No matter what books she thumbed through, no matter what notes she perused, no matter what conversations she tried to remember; she was at a total loss as to the location of the third Horcrux. They still believed this Horcrux consisted of Hufflepuff's cup – Dumbledore had told them that and so did his notes – but he had left no clues on where to find it. It was very possible that the man had had no idea himself.

Their prolonged failure to find the Horcrux was beginning to have a bad effect on Snape's mood. Whereas he had been reasonably tolerable in the few weeks after they had destroyed the diadem Horcrux, he now was downright edgy and pessimistic. She left him to his own devices most of the time, feeling that she would probably get more done on her own.

She spent most of her days reading through Dumbledore's notes and then reading through them again, desperate to discover a hint. After a week of this, however, she was forced to conclude that there simply were none. She had reached a dead end, and she had no idea where to begin looking for the way on. The Horcrux could be anywhere.

It didn't help that Snape was staying at Hogwarts most evenings now. Much as she believed she worked faster on her own, he remained the only other person to share the enormous weight of the task Dumbledore had set them, the only person with whom she could speculate about the pieces of Voldemort's soul.

She hadn't expected him to discover the possible location of the Horcrux on his own.

'I think I know where he's keeping it,' Snape announced over tea late one Saturday afternoon.

'Where who's keeping what?' she asked distractedly, putting sugar into her tea.

'The Dark Lord. His third Horcrux.'

She accidentally dropped some of the sugar onto the table upon hearing the seemingly offhand comment.

'What? Where?'

'I've already told you what,' Snape said, vanishing the sugar with a lazy flick of his wand. 'And I believe it to be located in the Lestranges' Gringotts vault.'

'What? Why there?'

Snape sighed. 'Please refrain from saying "what" all the time. It is very unbecoming.'

'Sorry,' she said quickly, eager to hear more.

He slowly sipped his tea, then brought the mug down to the table and took his time staring at its contents. Just when she couldn't take the anticipation anymore, he began to speak.

'The Dark Lord Summoned us late last night. The meeting was quite ... ordinary' (a frown appeared on Snape's face as he said that) 'but at the end of it he – that is to say, the Dark Lord, asked me to send Gryffindor's sword to the Lestranges' vault.'

'But you can't –'

'I know I can't, Miss Granger,' he sneered. 'I sent them a copy, a duplicate. A fake, if you will. The real sword remains in my office, safely locked away someplace out of sight.'

'Right. But that still doesn't explain how you knew the Horcrux to be in the Lestranges' vault.'

'Well, it is suspicious in itself that the Dark Lord trusts his followers with important objects. It fell deeply out of fashion with him after Lucius' slip-up several years ago.'

She nodded, remembering how the Chamber of Secrets had been opened in her second year at Hogwarts, thanks to a diary that had once belonged to Voldemort and had been passed on to Ginny by Lucius Malfoy.

'Then the Dark Lord asked Bella about the continued safety of, and I quote, "the other object I entrusted to your care".' Snape looked at her intently over his mug of tea. 'Does that sound like he stored the Horcrux with Bella to you?'

'Actually, yes, it does,' she confirmed. 'We need to find a way to make sure he really did, though.'

'Impossible,' Snape said, putting his mug down onto the table with a slight thud. 'The only way to be certain is to break into her vault and look for the thing.'

She threw her head back and laughed. 'Don't be a prat. Everyone knows no one has ever managed to break into Gringotts and make it out alive.'

'Then we will have to be the first to manage it.'

'You're kidding, aren't you?'

'I most certainly am not.' He sounded indignant. 'Destroying that Horcrux is of vital importance.'

'I'm well aware of that. I'm only stating the facts.'

'No, you are trying to ridicule me.'

'I'm not,' she said, getting up to place her empty tea cup on a countertop. 'Despite your beliefs to the contrary, not everything is about you, _Professor_.'

She heard a huff from the vicinity of the table and smirked. Teasing Snape was fun. Who would've thought?

'Whether or not you believe it to be possible is irrelevant, Hermione. What matters is what I believe, and I just so happen to think we could manage this.'

She smiled inwardly - he'd used her first name.

'Fine,' she gave in. 'But your plan had better be good.'

'I do not have one yet,' he admitted, as she took away his now empty tea cup.

'Why am I not surprised?'

'Oh, be quiet,' he groaned. 'We both know you would love nothing better than devise a plan to relieve Bellatrix of that Horcrux. Unless you have something better to do? Because in that case ...'

'No,' she said quickly. 'That's fine, I'll do it.'

Snape smirked and she knew he had won this round. 'Good. I will be going back to Hogwarts now. Do spend some time thinking about that plan this weekend.'

'Goodbye,' she said, and he flooed back to Hogwarts.

She found herself a piece of paper and a pen (a Muggle one – much as she loved quills, they always left stains on her fingers) and sat down at the table. If Snape wanted her to devise a plan, devise a plan she would.

* * *

For the next few days, wherever she went in the house, Hermione was accompanied by the scrap of paper with the beginnings of her plan on it. She spent every minute of her day thinking of ways to fool the goblins of Gringotts – in the tub, while cooking dinner, while brushing her teeth. She soon realized that it would be impossible to penetrate the Lestranges' vault without the help of the goblins. If she and Snape went off on their own (provided that they even got in), they would undoubtedly encounter terrifying obstacles (who had mentioned dragons again?), or, worse, get lost in the depths of the bank and starve to death. No, they needed the goblins. And the goblins wouldn't open the vault for anyone but Bellatrix.

So she would have to _become _Bellatrix.

The solution was so simple it was brilliant. If only they managed to relieve Bellatrix of her wand, got a hold of a few of her hairs and added them to some Polyjuice Potion, they would be able to easily infiltrate Gringotts.

There were only two problems as she saw it. One, they possessed neither Bellatrix' hairs nor her wand. Two, the real Bellatrix had to be stopped from showing up at all costs.

Clearly, it was brilliant.

Somehow, Snape had not been impressed when she'd explained it to him.

'There are so many holes in that plan it is almost transparent,' he'd told her. 'Unless you find a solution for all of those problems, I am not even going to bother brewing the Polyjuice Potion.'

The solution she had come up with was a simple one: they would have to kidnap (she actually snickered at the word) Bellatrix, steal her wand and some of her hair and keep her restrained until they had visited Gringotts, after which Bellatrix' memory would have to be erased. Now the only difficulty that remained was the actual kidnapping, for how did one knock out and kidnap a paranoid Death Eater like Bellatrix? It probably couldn't be done by force – they might outnumber Bella two to one, but the woman was a delusional witch with nothing to lose, and the last thing they needed was for her to escape their clutches and report the incident to the Dark Lord.

So, if it couldn't be done by force, it would have to be done by deception.

'I think I fixed all of the holes,' she announced the next time Snape showed up.

'Really?' Snape sounded remarkably sceptical. 'Do elaborate.'

'Seeing as we need Bellatrix' hair and wand, as well as make sure that she does not show up while we are at Gringotts, we will have to overpower and restrain her.'

Snape let out a short laugh. 'And how do you intend to "overpower and restrain" one of the most powerful Death Eaters?'

'Through deception,' she said simply.

'Deception is a broad term.'

'It's simple, really. We wait until Voldemort –'

'The Dark Lord.'

' – the Dark Lord Summons you. Then, you wait out the meeting, and after it has finished, you follow Bellatrix.'

'What is she Disapparates?' he questioned.

She shrugged. 'Then we'll try again.'

'That way, it might take a while before we succeed.'

'That's the risk we'll have to take. Now, will you allow me to finish my explanation?'

'Of course.'

'Good. So, you follow Bellatrix after the meeting. Provided she does not Disapparate someplace we don't expect her to – where does she usually go after a meeting, anyway?'

Snape pondered the question for a moment before answering. 'Malfoy Manor, I do believe.'

'Okay, you could try Apparating there if she Disapparates, then ... Anyway, you follow her, and make your presence known to her. We're going to rely on the notion that she probably won't hex you straight away, seeing as you're a fellow Death Eater.'

'Very reassuring.'

'You won't be able to use your wand – she'll probably have hexed you before you even get it out. So I was thinking we should drug her. Preferably with something that spreads through touch.'

'Because touching Bellatrix is so much safer than drawing a wand on her.'

'Hush. You could say that she left behind something at the Death Eater meeting and then touch her hand when you 'give it back'. Or no – we should use something that works slower. That way you'll be able to just brush against her at the end of the meeting and wait until the drug goes into effect.'

Snape quirked an eyebrow. 'And what if she decides to go out with some fellow Death Eaters?'

'Okay. I know something better. You'll just sneak up on her and then Stun her when she's expecting it least.'

'One does not sneak up on Bellatrix Lestrange.'

'One does when they're underneath an invisibility cloak.'

'That is quite risky.'

She grinned. 'I know.'

'I still see a lot of holes.'

'This is the best I can do,' she sighed. 'There simply is no other way.'

Snape was quiet for a while, apparently thinking over her idea. At long last he sighed and spat: 'Fine. We shall try it.'

'Good,' she said, making to get up from her chair.

Snape put a hand up to stop her. 'There is one more problem.'

'What?'

'I don't have any Polyjuice Potion handy.'

'Can't we just buy some?'

'What if another Death Eater was to notice me buying Polyjuice Potion and then hear about a break-in into the Lestranges' vault?'

She shrugged. 'You could be needing it for something else.'

'Such as?'

'You could pretend Voldemort sent you to get it.'

'And what if someone was to mention this to the Dark Lord? Or worse, what if he was to see it in their minds?'

'Okay,' she gave in. 'I'll go then.'

He shook his head. 'That would look even more suspicious.'

'Mail-order?' she tried, beginning to feel a little desperate.

'And provide them with both my name and address? I think not.' He leaned back in his chair. 'If we want to use Polyjuice Potion, we will have to brew it ourselves.'

'But that will take forever!'

'Take it or leave it.'

She bit her lower lip. She had gone over all the possibilities and the Polyjuice Potion plan was by far the safest. They'd have to execute this plan, no matter how long it took.

'Okay, we'll brew it. I think we should do it here, though, so that I can monitor the Potion while you're busy at Hogwarts.' She met his gaze. 'Don't look so worried. I've done it before.'

'And with disastrous consequences, if I remember correctly,' he said dryly.

'That was only because I used the wrong hair! It worked fine on Harry and Ron.'

Snape smirked. 'You rose to the bait again, Granger.'

She buried her face in her arms.

* * *

Two days later they had succeeded in transforming one of the spare bedrooms into a make-shift Potions lab. Now everywhere she went, Hermione breathed in the fumes that were already emerging from the cauldron, and stumbled over objects that had been thrown out of the room in their efforts to create more space. The lacewing flies were stewing, the other ingredients were within reach and Snape had brought a copy of _Moste Potente Potions_, so that she could actually check their work as they went along. Now the only obstacles left to them were the long, agonizing breaks between the adding of the different ingredients, and the amount of time remaining until the Polyjuice Potion was ready to be consumed.

Not that she was bored – oh no. She had taken it upon herself to devise a plan that would allow them to get rid of the very last Horcrux: the snake Nagini. This Horcrux would most likely be the most difficult to destroy of all, for the snake never left Voldemort's side, and to kill her would mean facing Voldemort. This was something she preferred to avoid.

A sound came from the other side of the room, and she looked up, startled – only to see that Snape had fallen asleep on the sole chair they'd allowed to stay in their new Potions lab. She couldn't say she blamed the man – she felt a rather lot like sleeping through the next, say, twenty-four hours herself. Still, his position looked extremely uncomfortable and he would probably be sore by the time he woke up. It would be better to wake him.

She clambered up and tiptoed over to Snape's chair.

'Professor,' she said, nudging him gently in the shoulder. 'Wake up.'

He did not respond, and she nudged harder.

'Severus!'

The next moment she was pinned to the floor, a wand pressed to her throat. She stared up into the cold black eyes of Severus Snape. He looked vaguely confused.

'Hermione?'

'No, the Dark Lord,' she replied weakly. 'Who else?'

'I thought you were ... ' he struggled, apparently searching for the right word.

'An enemy?'

'Yes.'

Snape removed his wand from her throat and she became at once aware of the intimacy of their position. Snape didn't appear to have any qualms whatsoever about sitting on top of her, however.

'What were you doing?' he asked, his eyes scrutinizing her. She felt herself flush under the intensity of his gaze.

'I ... er ... I was trying to wake you up. You looked somewhat ... ah, uncomfortable.' That sounded meagre even to her own ears. She decided to try and attempt to rectify the situation. 'And then you jumped at me, and ... well, here we are.'

This appeared to alert Snape to their current position, for he suddenly moved off her and stood up.

'Perhaps we should both go to bed,' he said curtly. 'The Potion will be fine for the time being.'

She nodded weakly and watched as he swept out of the room. Only then did she allow her head to fall back against the floor.

* * *

The next few days seemed to her like one big stretch of repetition. She got up in the morning to check up on the potion and adjust things when needed, then went down to the kitchen for breakfast and stayed there the rest of the day, mulling over possible ways to kill Nagini and live to tell the tale. The only distraction from this current boredom were the few and far between visits of Snape. She knew he was still incredibly busy at the school, but still, a small part of her could not help but be angry at the fact he was gone all the time.

She was even more angry at Dumbledore; it was his fault that she spent the better part of the day locked up inside this unfriendly old house. Her respect for Sirius was increasing by the day, and she now understood quite well what had driven him to leave the sanctuary of the Order headquarters in favour of going on the rescue mission that had cost him his life. She was itching to do something completely not sensible, something dangerous ...

As it was, she had to content herself with watching as the dark fumes coming from the cauldron rose and then disappeared. She longed to go outside.


	8. Chapter 8

AN: I sincerely apologize for the long wait. You are more than free to chuck things at my head or burn me at a stake.

* * *

_Chapter Eight_

'There is simply no other way,' Snape said decisively. 'I will have to kill the snake after we destroy the Horcrux in the Lestranges' vault.'

'You can't,' she protested ferociously. 'It will cost you your life.'

'So be it,' he said, adding some more lacewing flies to the Potion. 'After I kill the snake, all the Dark Lord's Horcruxes will have been destroyed and he will be mortal once more.'

'Mortal, yes!' she shrieked. 'But not dead! However am I supposed to kill him when you're gone?'

'I am sure you will think of something,' he replied calmly. 'You are quite a bright witch, after all.'

The flattery did nothing to lessen her anger. 'Impossible! You know very well that I don't stand a chance against Voldemort!'

'You will think of something,' he repeated.

'Will you quit saying that? I won't be able to kill Voldemort on my own and you know it. Besides, who'll tell me about his plans if you're not there to spy on him?'

'Look, Hermione,' he snapped. 'If you can think of a better way to get rid of that snake, then, by all means, do share.'

'You could kill the snake and then Disapparate.'

'You can't Disapparate out of Malfoy Manor.'

'Then use a portkey!'

'That would still mean giving up my position as a spy.'

'Perhaps, but at least you'd be alive!'

Snape pressed a hand against his forehead. 'If you can figure out a way to kill the snake without the Dark Lord knowing we did it, I shall go with it. If you do not, however, I will stick to the original plan.'

She sighed, knowing that this was the best she could do for the moment. 'Okay. Fine.'

Snape ignored her comment. 'If you wouldn't mind passing me the leeches?'

She got up from the stool and moved over to their ingredients cabinet. She easily identified the leeches among their scarce supply of ingredients and took them back to their working station. She placed them on the table in front of Snape and he began crushing them to powder.

She watched as he worked, his long, pale fingers moving deftly over the leeches, his dark hair falling in front of his eyes. Snape might not exactly be likeable in character, but he was a true artist in his work. And he was intelligent, too. Capable of having interesting conversations – at least if he wasn't pissed-off at his conversational partner. He might not be nice, but he was civil. He was never satisfied with her efforts, but that only pushed her to try harder. He was usually much too serious, but that only made the rare times that he joked all the more valuable.

He was on her mind much too often.

She focussed on the work at hand again, watching as Snape crushed the last of the leeches, and noticing as she did so that he had extraordinarily beautiful hands. This did not help.

'Are you quite finished staring?' he snarled at her, depositing the powder into the cauldron. 'You might consider getting up and helping me clean this mess.'

She jumped to her feet, an embarassed blush creeping up to her cheeks. She carefully put the leftover leeches back into their case and replaced it in the ingredients cabinet. Snape had already managed to clean the rest of the table in the time she put the leeches away.

'Good,' he said, casting a critical look at the Potion. 'We should leave it simmering for a few days before adding the next ingredient.'

She threw a look at _Moste Potente Potions_, which was still lying open on the table.

'The next ingredient is the shredded Boomslang skin,' she said, peering at the page that described the Polyjuice Potion.

'Yes,' Snape said from behind her. 'I'd say the Potion is coming along nicely. We should be finished in a week or two.'

She spun around. 'That's great!'

She didn't know how they had suddenly ended up so close to each other. She didn't know why she moved towards him instead of away. The next moment, she was leaning in to him, her eyes closing.

The next moment, she was thrown backwards by a rough shove.

'What,' began Snape, his voice icy, 'in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?'

'I … I wasn't thinking …'

'That much was apparent,' he hissed. 'I do not know what insane fantasies you have developed, but I will tell you here and now that I do not approve of this schoolgirl crush, much less tolerate it.'

'Schoolgirl crush?' she began, angrily. 'Why, you –'

'I shall make this very plain, Miss Granger,' he snapped, his face dangerously close to hers. 'I do not care for you. You had best rid yourself of any notion that I do right now.'

'Don't say that. I – '

'I don't think you understand me,' he snarled. 'You are a nuisance. Nothing more and nothing less. I put up with you because I have to, not because I want to. And I most certainly do not feel anything for you.'

Her throat felt oddly constricted. 'I thought you ...'

'That's precisely the problem, Miss Granger. You think too much and miss what is right in front of you.'

'That's hardly a fair thing to say!'

'This is hardly a fair situation,' he snapped.

She blinked furiously, trying to banish the angry tears that were threatening to spill onto her cheeks. 'I don't have to put up with this!'

'And nor do I. Good evening, Miss Granger.'

He swept from the room without another word.

* * *

'I don't know what I was thinking, Ron.'

She was sitting on the edge of Ron's bed, her face in her hands. She didn't cry; it wouldn't help her to. For perhaps the first time since she had modified their memories, she missed her parents.

'I've been so foolish. We were finally approaching something close to friendship, and now I've gone and ruined it all.' She sniffed. 'Not that he cared for me in the first place.'

Something touched her shoulder and she jerked her hands away from her face to see what it was. What she saw astonished her beyond anything. Ron had sat down onto the bed next to her and had put his hand onto her shoulder. When she looked at his face his blue eyes looked back at her.

'Ron?' she whispered hoarsely.

The ghost of a smile appeared on Ron's face – so fleeting that the next moment she thought she might have imagined it. Then he averted his eyes and his hand slid off her shoulder. She stared at him for a long moment, taking in every tiny detail: his messy red hair, the knitted maroon jumper with the large 'R' on it, the scab on his neck where he had scratched himself a little too hard.

'Oh, Ron,' she said, and threw her arms around him.

* * *

She attempted to stay out of Snape's way as much as possible for the next few days. This wasn't a very difficult feat, seeing as Snape appeared to be avoiding her as well. She hadn't seen him at all since their … argument, and she had been forced to continue brewing the Polyjuice Potion on her own. This suited her just fine. She was perfectly capable of brewing the concoction herself. She did not need his help, and she would certainly not make herself a "nuisance" by asking for it. She was angry that he had left her to do it on her own, yes, but she was more relieved than anything.

The Potion, meanwhile, simmered along nicely, and soon it had reached the final stages of the brewing process. Before long she would be able to add the hairs of their victim and transform into the person she desired to become.

Provided that Snape managed to actually get the hair.

While he hadn't yet given any indication that he knew how to go about this task, she felt confident that he would succeed; didn't he always? She also remembered what he had said about killing the snake, and she knew that time was running out for her. They couldn't wait too long with killing the snake after they'd destroyed the Horcrux in the Lestranges' vault: Bellatrix would undoubtedly notice its absence at some point. If she did not think of a way to kill the snake without anyone realizing Snape was in on the plan, he would die a horrid death at the hands of Voldemort.

And, upset with him as she might be, she didn't want _that _to happen to him, either.

Throwing the last of the lacewing flies into the simmering Potion, she vanished the mess she'd created on the working table with a flick of her wand. She then left the makeshift Potions lab and headed towards her bedroom. Right now, she desired nothing more than to just fall into her bed and sleep.

Her bedroom, as usual, was a complete mess. Clothes and books were scattered throughout the room, making it impossible to walk in a straight line from the door to the chair onto which she had flung her nightshirt that morning. She managed to extract the nightshirt in question from the chair, undressed, and was about to pull the shirt over her head when she noticed a horrible stain.

'Of course,' she muttered, holding the thing up in front of her. The stain resembled the colour of the hot chocolate she'd drank yesterday. It would be hell to get it out of the shirt.

She threw it back onto the chair and pulled on a dressing gown. Then she stumbled to her still not fully unpacked bag and fell down on her knees next to it. She opened the zipper and began rummaging through it. Socks, skirts and pants passed through her hands, but her spare nightshirt was nowhere in sight. Sighing, she held the bag upside down and allowed its contents to fall onto the floor. There her shirt was, right underneath ... a package?

Frowning, she reached out and grabbed the package. It felt light in her hands, and suddenly she remembered –it was Harry's Invisibility Cloak, given to her by Dumbledore.

Smiling sadly, she began unwrapping the cloak. She had put it into her bag after Dumbledore had given it to her, and had then proceeded to forget all about it. She wasn't sure she could ever use it again without thinking about Dumbledore and Harry, but now that she had been reminded of its existence, she was determined to take a look at it.

She at last managed to pull off the wrapping paper and the cloak tumbled into her hands. It was soft and light, just the way she remembered it. She threw it over her knees and delighted in the sight of them disappearing. It truly had been an awfully handy thing to have back in their schooldays, and even if it had sometimes landed them into trouble, it had much more often saved them from it. Smiling, she was about to wrap it back up in the paper, when suddenly an idea struck her.

If they had been able to use the cloak to roam through the school unnoticed, then surely she would also be able to use it to escape notice at another place? A place like, say, Malfoy Manor?

Grinning like a fool, she threw the cloak over her head and made sure every inch of her body was hidden beneath it. She walked over to the floor-length mirror in a corner of her room and stood in front of it. She saw no reflection. The cloak fit perfectly. Now, at last, she had worked out a safe way to kill Nagini.

Well, as safe as killing Voldemort's pet snake in his presence and that of his most loyal followers could be.

She would just hide underneath the invisibility cloak when Snape was next Summoned and follow him into Malfoy Manor. Then she would stay quiet and unnoticed until she found an opportunity to kill the snake with Gryffindor's sword. She would then use a portkey to disappear from Malfoy Manor before any of the Death Eaters realized what had happened. As an extra safety measure, she would steal some hairs from a Muggle and drink Polyjuice Potion, so that even if the cloak slipped Voldemort would have no idea as to her real identity.

It was perfect.

She folded up the cloak and replaced it inside the wrapping paper.


	9. Chapter 9

_Please read!_

**AN: **I apologize for the extreme lack of updates lately. The reason for this is that I am not at all satisfied with this story and certain elements of it. At first my intention was to improve the story, but I have now decided not to. As such, I am uploading the story 'as is', in the full knowledge that several plot points are weak and that there may be some mistakes. However, I felt it would not be fair to any readers I may still have not to finish the story. So be warned: the story will not be perfect. Having that said, on to chapter nine.

**Chapter Nine**

Hermione took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the task ahead. She knew Snape would be very angry with her for what she was about to do, but she really didn't have another choice. She needed to speak with him, and if he refused to contact her, well, then she would contact _him_. It was dangerous, yes, but it was entirely Snape's fault she was forced to do this. Completely. She was not to blame for any of it. Absolutely not.

She sighed, knowing very well that most of it was her own fault, and seized a pinch of floo powder and threw it into the fire. The flames immediately turned emerald. She went down on her knees and stuck her head into the fire.

'Headmaster's office, Hogwarts,' she said clearly. The next moment her head was spinning and she had to close her eyes to prevent herself from throwing up. When at last her head stopped moving she opened her eyes and realized that she couldn't have chosen a more convenient time to contact Snape. He was sitting at his desk, writing, and apparently alone in the office.

'Professor!' she hissed, and he jumped, spilling an inkwell in the process. His wand was drawn within a second and he glanced around the room apprehensively. His eyes finally came to rest on her head in the fireplace.

'Miss Granger!' he said, his voice a mix between surprise and anger. 'What in Merlin's name do you think you're doing?'

'Talking to you,' she said simply.

Snape got up and advanced towards the fireplace. 'Do you have any idea how dangerous this is? What if someone had been in my office at the time you appeared and had seen your head in the fire? Well?'

She frowned, her anger rising. 'I wouldn't have needed to do this if you hadn't so stubbornly and childishly refused to contact me.'

'That was not –'

'Oh, don't lie to me,' she spat. 'Either way, I haven't come here to argue.'

'Then what _have _you come for?'

'I've come to tell you two things,' she began, trying not to let her temper get to her. 'One: the Polyjuice Potion is almost ready. Two: I have devised a plan to kill Nagini.'

'And this is important enough to disturb me while I am at Hogwarts?' he snapped.

'Yes!' she yelled, accidentally breathing in a mouthful of ashes. She coughed loudly. 'How was I to know when you would return? You might have been to stubborn to contact me for another three weeks and that would have been a huge waste of valuable time!'

'I can assure you I did not have any such intentions!'

'Well, then perhaps you should have let me know!'

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose hard. 'Fine, Granger. Tell me about this plan of yours.'

She explained how she had found the invisibility cloak and had become inspired to use it to infiltrate Malfoy Manor. Then she talked about the portkey and the Polyjuice Potion. At the end of her story, Snape appeared to have calmed down a little if nothing else.

'You are aware that this is dangerous.' It wasn't a question.

'I thought you didn't care for my wellbeing,' she retorted.

'I said I didn't care for _you_. I've never said anything about your physical state of health. It would merely be inconvenient to waste a perfectly good strategist on the Dark Lord's snake.'

'So that's all I am to you? Someone to think up your plans?'

'Oh no, Miss Granger. You are merely a nuisance to me, as I clearly remember saying before,' he replied coldly. 'However, having you think up the plans saves me valuable time.'

She could feel the angry tears return to her eyes. 'You're a jerk.'

'At your service,' he sneered.

Unable to spend another second in his company, she pulled her head out of the fireplace.

* * *

Snape waited until the fire had regained its original colour and then sagged down into his chair. He knew he ought to be more angry at the Granger girl, but for some reason he just couldn't summon forth the effort. As a matter of fact, he didn't feel anything but an odd sense of hollowness.

'Why are you doing this to her, Severus?' Dumbledore's portrait inquired calmly from behind him. Snape did not turn around. Rather, he pretended not to have heard anything at all. Unfortunately, Dumbledore's portrait was not one for giving up. 'I would think you would value your relationship with her more, seeing as she is the only person who is aware of your current predicament.'

'You know nothing about my relationship with her,' he said coldly.

'I know more than you may think.'

Snape turned around the face the portrait. 'You believe you are ominiscient, do you not?' he spat at the painting. 'Well, let me tell you something now. You are not ominiscient at all – in fact, you know so little it is almost laughable. You think you have everyone under your control, ready to do whatever you tell them to do; but it is not like that. I am not some brainless paw you can move around and manipulate. And I will most certainly not take advice from a portrait, not even if it resembles the _great _Albus Dumbledore.'

There was a silence after those words, and Snape turned around again, focussing on his work. He vanished the spilled ink with a flick of his wand, took a new bottle from his desk drawer and continued writing. Just when it seemed that he would be spared more of the portrait's babbling, the thing spoke again.

'I have never sought to manipulate you, Severus,' it said softly. 'And I certainly did not view you as a brainless paw. I have always wanted the best for you, though, to my sincerest regret, I have not always been able to grant it to you.'

Snape once again chose to pretend he had not heard the portrait. It was easier than allowing the doubt to creep into his mind.

* * *

Hermione tumbled back into the Grimmauld Place kitchen. Her knees hurt from kneeling too long on the hard kitchen floor and her feet had become numb with cold. Shivering, she stood up and climbed up the stairs, with the idea to get a vest from her room. She threw a careless glance out of the window that looked out upon the square of houses Grimmauld Place was part of in passing. Then, as her brains processed what she had just seen, she halted and walked backwards until she could look out of the window again.

There, sitting on top of a streetlight, was a snowy white owl.

She ran downstairs again, threw open the front door and dashed down the few steps leading up to the door, effectively becoming visible to the world once again. As soon as Hedwig spotted her, the owl swooped down from the streetlight and landed on Hermione's shoulder. A note was attached to her leg. Hermione began untying it with trembling fingers. The Weasleys had taken in Hedwig after Harry's death, but they never normally used her to deliver letters. Hermione understood. It had to be difficult for people who had known Harry to see Hedwig flying towards them, a letter tied to her leg. Almost as though Harry was alive again. If they used her to send a letter to her now, something had to be seriously wrong.

She finally managed to untie the note and folded it open, straightening it with her fingers.

_Hermione, _

_I am using Hedwig to send this to you, for I have no clue where you live and she has never failed to deliver a single note. I don't know how to break this to you, so I'll just come straight out with it: Ron is seriously injured, and is even now fighting for his life. It seems as though he happened across mom's wand and accidentally used it on himself. I just thought you had the right to hear about this before anyone else told you. I will try to keep you informed._

_Fred_

She felt as though her world had shattered.

She hardly managed to open the door through the haze of tears. When she did, she stumbled in and headed straight upstairs, not even bothering to close the door behind her. She collapsed onto her bed as soon as she had reached her bedroom and began to cry.

How could this have happened? How could things have gone so out of hand? Ron had seemed to be doing much better lately – not worse!

She could feel tears begin to roll down her cheeks, but she made no effort to wipe them away. It seemed as though everything in her life was going wrong. _Ron is seriously injured, and is even now fighting for his life. _She took a shake breath, praying fervently that whatever happened, Ron would not stop fighting. She thought she could not bear to lose her very last friend.

Through her tears, she became vaguely aware of a hand on her shoulder. She couldn't bring herself to look who it was, but she was certain they did not intend to harm her – Death Eaters didn't generally bother consoling their victims before they killed them. Perhaps Fred had somehow managed to follow Hedwig and find her here.

Cool fingers touched her cheek, forcing her to look at their owner. She stubbornly kept her eyes closed, unwilling to feel anything beyond the despair that was threatening to absorb her.

'Drink this,' her would-be saviour said. She knew that voice, knew it very well – but it couldn't be, could it?

She allowed her eyes to flutter open and looked right into Snape's. They were dark and immeasurable as ever, though something different had appeared inside them. An emotion, maybe. A slightly different expression.

'Drink this,' he repeated, pushing a vial into her hands. She regarded it critically. Even in her current state of disarray she wasn't going to just ingest anything handed to her by Snape. Noticing her look, he said: 'It's only a Calming Draught. But you're free to leave it if you don't want it.'

She brought the vial to her lips and tipped it over, not taking her eyes off him. He had spoken the truth; it really was only a Calming Draught. She watched him as he threw some clothes off her chair and pulled it over to the bed before sitting down on it. She was slowly beginning to breathe more regularly as the Potion began to take effect. Snape waited until her breathing had evened out before speaking.

'What happened?' His tone was neutral; indifferent, almost. But didn't the mere fact that he was sitting here and had given her a Calming Draught indicate that he _did _care? How had he even known she needed his help, anyway?

'Ron,' she choked out. 'He's seriously injured. He might die.'

Snape leaned his head on his arms and looked at her intently. 'What happened?'

'T-they think it was an accident,' she stuttered. 'He found Mrs Weasley's wand ... and ... and ...'

Snape sighed deeply and his gaze wandered over the room, eventually coming to a rest on the open window.

'Have you considered that this may not be an accident?'

She shot upright. 'What do you mean? Did someone want to attack Ron?'

'I did not say that I thought someone else attacked him,' Snape said calmly. 'I simply do not think it was an accident.'

Her eyes widened. 'You think he did it … h-himself?'

'Think, Hermione.' His eyes once again met hers. 'I have heard that Mr Weasley experiences moments of clarity sometimes. Is that correct?'

She gave a weak nod. 'Yes ... sometimes he almost seems like himself again ...'

'Imagine you were in his position. How would you feel if you experienced such a moment of clarity and realized what you had become?'

'I ... I would be terrified,' she whispered.

'Exactly,' Snape agreed, sitting up straighter.

She did not take her eyes off him. Snape's words were, in some twisted way, making sense. Ron might have been so terrified upon realizing what was happening to him, that he'd sought a way to escape it all.

Another dry sob escaped her.

Snape closed his eyes for a moment as though praying for strength. 'You should try to sleep for a while. I will finish the Polyjuice Potion.'

She wanted to protest and say that she was perfectly capable of brewing, but Snape had already slipped from the room before she had found the right words. Sighing, she let herself fall back onto the bed, wondering what had compelled Snape to come back.

* * *

She awoke several hours later with a pounding headache.

With no little effort, she pushed herself off the bed and stumbled towards the slightly opened door. Instinctively, she headed towards the Potions lab. Perhaps Snape would still be there. He had said he was going to finish the Polyjuice Potion, hadn't he?

She peeked around the door that led to the Potions lab. Snape was filling small bottles with the Polyjuice Potion, which had assumed the appearance of dark mud. She silently slid into the room. Snape still seemed to have heard her, for he looked up briefly and their eyes met. Then he looked down again and continued to fill the bottle he was holding. She tried very hard not to let the awkwardness of the situation get to her.

'It's ready,' he said, not taking his eyes off his work. 'Now all we need is some hair to add to it.'

'Yes,' she confirmed, moving towards him. 'Are you going to try and obtain it soon?'

'I will try to trick Bellatrix and overpower her the next time the Dark Lord Summons me,' he said, putting a stopper into the last bottle. 'Then I will bring her here so that you can keep her restrained while I take the Polyjuice Potion and go to Gringotts.'

'Wait a moment,' she said, a frown appearing on her face. 'I thought I would be the one to take the Polyjuice Potion.'

'Don't be ridiculous. Breaking into Gringotts is dangerous. Furthermore, it requires a skilled wizard to pull it off.'

'Are you trying to insult me?' she asked incredulously.

'Of course not,' Snape said, with the air of someone explaining something to a particularly thick person. 'But I see no reason why you should endanger yourself if I can go as well.'

'What if I don't manage to restrain Bellatrix?'

Snape waved his hand non-commitably. 'She'll be knocked out the whole time.'

'But what if she isn't?'

'Were you not just telling me that I should not underestimate your skills?' Snape inquired. 'I'd say you are perfectly capable of keeping her under control.'

She could feel herself begin to panic.

'You don't know anything about acting like a woman,' she protested.

'I know more than enough to pull it off,' he said, an edge of impatience to his voice. 'Besides, I know Bellatrix much better than you do.'

'But can you walk on high heels as well as I can?'

Snape looked baffled. 'Excuse me?'

'They will know immediately you're not a real woman,' she stated, her voice a lot more confident than she felt. 'It's in the very way we move. No man could ever hope to impersonate a woman perfectly, and especially not you.'

'That is ridiculous.'

'It's not. People are far more likely to realize that you're not a woman than that I'm not a Death Eater.'

'Hermione, why are you so desperate to go yourself?'

She looked down at the ground. It was easier to adress that than Snape. 'What if you get caught? That'd be the end of you.'

Snape raised his eyebrows. 'The same goes for you.'

'Yes,' she said, slowly, 'but it would be much worse if it happened to you, because then we wouldn't have a spy in Voldemort's camp anymore.'

He flinched at the use of Voldemort's name, but did not comment on it. 'You deserve much more to live than I do.'

'Don't say that,' she said, annoyed. 'Besides, they're more likely to have some kind of mercy on me than on you, seeing as I never pretended to be one of them.'

'Don't be daft. They would be delighted to get their hands on you, you having been so close to Potter.'

She swallowed thickly. Now was not the time to think about Harry. 'Yes, but if either of us should get caught, I'd rather it is me. You have a much better chance of destroying the Horcruxes on your own than I have.' Not to mention that she was itching to have some sort of revenge on Voldemort after what he'd done – albeit indirectly – to Ron. Her insides squirmed at the thought of him, and she fervently hoped he was all right.

Snape sighed. 'Very well, then.'


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

It was late one Friday night that the next step of their plan was finally set into motion.

Hermione awoke to the sounds of the front door slamming open and someone entering the hall with a lot of noise. She grabbed her wand from her bedside table and dashed downstairs, not bothering to change out of her nightshirt. By the time she reached the front door the source of disturbance had already moved on, leaving the door open in its wake. She closed it and darted down the stairs into the kitchen.

Snape was just using his wand to tie Bellatrix to the kitchen table when she entered the room. Looking at the scene, she said: 'Isn't it a bit unnecessary to tie her to the _table_?'

Snape raised an eyebrow. 'She might have toppled a chair over had I tied her to that.'

'I gather it you were able to bring her here without much trouble, then?' she asked, letting her eyes slide over his seemingly unblemished form.

'Relatively,' he said, rubbing over his right arm. 'She did manage to get me with a stinging hex, though. Frankly, I am surprised that she didn't use anything more deadly than that. It's not at all like her.'

'Well, you don't hear me complaining,' she muttered, walking over to the table the unconscious Bellatrix was tied to. 'Have you got her wand? I'll need it.'

'Yes,' he replied, holding the thing up. 'All we need now are some hairs to add to the Polyjuice Potion.' He walked over to the table and without further ado yanked out several of Bellatrix' hairs. Hermione flinched involuntarily.

'That must have hurt.'

'I did not realize you cared about her.'

She sighed exasperatedly. 'I just don't like to inflect unnecessary pain.'

'You will come to regret feeling sorry for her one day,' Snape said gruffly. 'You do not know what she is capable of.'

'I have an idea,' she replied calmly. 'Now what do we do?'

'We wait,' Snape said. He was blindfolding Bellatrix with a cloth that he had conjured out of thin air. 'Gringotts doesn't open until morning. Besides, you do not want to draw attention to yourself by stalking through Diagon Alley at night.' He pulled a chair towards him and sat down. She sat down next to him, trying not to pay attention to the unconscious Death Eater on the table.

The silence between them was not precisely uncomfortable, but she still felt the need to fill it with words.

'Are you ever afraid?' she asked, because she didn't know what else to say.

Snape looked at her calmly. 'Of course I am.' He watched her blink, then said: 'That was not the answer you were expecting.'

'No,' she admitted.

'Fear is a human quality, Hermione. There is not a single soul on this Earth who is not afraid every once in a while.'

'Even Volde-'

'The Dark Lord.'

'Even the Dark Lord?'

Snape stared at a point on the empty wall behind her.

'Especially the Dark Lord.'

They sat in silence until dawn broke, Hermione growing steadily more restless. She was relieved when it was finally time to get ready.

Having ensured that she had Bellatrix' wand on her, Hermione collected some larger sized robes (Bellatrix was quite a bit taller than she was) and then added the hairs to the Polyjuice Potion. The resulting concoction looked horrid, but she forced herself to drink all of it. She only had a moment to note the foulness of its taste before she felt her body morphing into Bellatrix'. She shot up, her hair darkened and her skin became paler. When her body seemed to have stopped changing, she wrestled herself out of her clothes, silently cursing her forgetfulness. Taking the clothes off beforehand would have been a lot easier.

She eventually succeeded in stripping herself off her clothes and put on the larger robes she had brought. She allowed herself a moment to scrutinize her appearance in the floor-length mirror, but just seeing Bellatrix' heavily lidded eyes looking back at her made her want to throw up. She took Bellatrix' wand and hurried back downstairs. She would be using the floo to get into the Leaky Cauldron and then go to Gringotts.

Snape looked up as she entered the kitchen. His eyes passed over her. Then he looked down at the Bellatrix on the table and back up again at the one standing in the door opening.

'Do I look good?' Hermione inquired, smiling at Snape. It felt odd to smile while in Bellatrix' body – the muscles felt stiff and unused, as though Bellatrix never smiled. Well, never smiled in a normal, non-freaky way.

'Looking good is not a term I wish to associate with Bellatrix,' Snape replied, 'but I will say you look exactly like her. Are you ready to go?'

She nodded and walked over to the fireplace. 'I'll try to make it quick,' she said over her shoulder as she took a pinch of floo powder.

'Please do,' Snape answered dryly. 'And remember not to touch the cup with your bare hands should you find it: it will burn you.'

She threw the floo powder into the fireplace and said: 'The Leaky Cauldron' before stepping in. Traveling by floo was never usually a pleasant experience, and it was no different this time. It took all Hermione had not to burst into a coughing fit the moment she stepped into the Leaky Cauldron. Somehow, she didn't think it was something Bellatrix would do. Instead, she contented herself with brushing some ash off her robes.

Tom, the toothless landlord, appeared to have noticed her. 'Madam Lestrange,' he murmured, taking a slight bow. She ignored him, thinking that the real Bellatrix probably would as well. She slipped into the tiny backyard and used Bellatrix' wand to tap a brick in the wall and open the way to Diagon Alley. The wand felt strange in her hand, unfriendly, and just thinking of the things it had been used to do made her feel slightly queasy.

She stepped out into Diagon Alley. Seeing as it was still very early, the street was mostly deserted. She spotted several beggars, but they scurried out of sight whenever she came near. Bellatrix truly was an intimidating person. She walked on, feeling strangely affected by the awful state Diagon Alley was in. Many of the shops had been closed, several well-known ones like Ollivander's and Fortescue's ice salon among them. What made the biggest impression on her, however, were the beggars on the streets. She knew that they had ended up in that position because they were Muggleborn – just like her. That much she had gathered from Snape's reports. She knew life was terrible for Muggleborns all around – but seeing it made it so much more _real_. Shivering, she decided that she had been cooped up in Grimmauld Place for far too long. She had been away for a couple of months and now the whole world seemed to have changed.

In front of her loomed the tall, white building of Gringotts. Soon she reached the marble steps leading up to the bronze doors. She looked around, slightly surprised at the absence of any additional security. Now that Voldemort had hidden one of his Horcruxes in a Gringotts' vault, she had expected him to at least pull some strings to assure the piece of his soul was as safe as it possibly could be. Deciding not to question the sudden turn of luck on her part, she quickly entered the building.

The marble hall was still as grand and majestic as it had been the first time she had visited Gringotts many years ago. For a moment, she felt the same awe and admiration she had experienced as an eleven year old; then it was gone and she was walking up to one of the goblins that manned the long counter.

'Madam Lestrange,' the goblin said, his voice indifferent. 'How may I help you?'

'I wish to enter my vault.' Her voice was calm, though inside she was one big ball of nerves. Why hadn't she let Snape do this? He was endlessly more familiar with the workings of the wizarding world than she was ...

'Of course. May I see your wand?'

She silently handed over Bellatrix' wand to the goblin, who scrutinized it for a moment and then gave it back to her. He then clapped his hands and a second goblin appeared.

'I shall need the clankers,' he told the second goblin, who immediately darted off and returned moments later with a heavy-looking leather bag. Its contents jingled slightly. 'Good! If you'd please follow me, Madam Lestrange.'

The goblin hopped off his stool and then appeared at the end of the counter. He walked straight on to one of the doors heading off the hall, and Hermione followed quickly. The door took them to a stone passageway that was only scarcely lit with torches. Hermione shivered involuntarily. Never once had she dreamed that she would one day be trying to rob Gringotts – but then, times changed.

The goblin whistled and a cart appeared from the darkness, heading towards them. He climbed into it and she followed his example. The cart took off with a jerk and moments later they were speeding through the underground part of Gringotts. The darkness was thick and pressing, and Hermione felt extremely exposed and uncomfortable.

They passed several stalacites and then, suddenly, a waterfall appeared in front of them. Hermione realized with a start what it was and what it did. The Thief's Downfall washed away all enchantment – she'd read about it in a book. This would be the end of her disguise if she didn't act quickly.

With seconds to spare, she pulled out Bellatrix' wand, pointed it up at the waterfall, and said '_Protego_!'

She watched as the Shield Charm broke the flow of the water and they passed underneath it. Unfortunately, her Shield Charm had alerted the goblin who was driving the cart to her less than honourable intentions. He turned around to face her, a look of confusion etched on his face. She pointed the wand at him.

'_Confundo_.'

The goblin blinked dazedly, clearly confused. 'Madam Lestrange?' he inquired uncertainly.

'What is it?' she snapped in what she thought to be a good imitation of Bellatrix' most indignant manner. 'Must you stare at me so?'

'Forgive me, Madam Lestrange,' the goblin quickly said, inclining his head. Somehow, she felt that Snape would have had a much easier way of overcoming this problem. But she did not much fancy being the one responsible for keeping Bellatrix tied down, either.

The cart had stopped moving and they clambered out of it. The goblin opened the leather bag he had taken with him and took out a pair of small metal instruments. He began shaking them and they made a loud, ringing noise. Hermione stared at them in wonder, not knowing why the goblin was using them.

Their purpose became painfully clear when they rounded the next corner. An enormous dragon was tethered to the ground, guarding the entrance to four or five faults. As soon as the dragon heard the ringing sound, it retreated, trembling. When they got nearer to the dragon, Hermione noticed several scars on the dragon's face – they must have taught him to expect pain when the clankers sounded. She almost made a noise of disapproval, but caught herself just in time.

They had reached the doors and the goblin firmly pressed the palm of his hand to one of them, after which it melted away. They entered the vault and Hermione stared in awe at all the treasure around her. Realizing that she couldn't stay too long without looking suspicious, she began to search the piles of gold for the cup. She didn't touch the gold – she remembered what Snape had said about it burning.

There it was! The cup was sitting atop one of the piles of gold nearest to the door, and Hermione was glad for that. She inconspiciously shook the sleeve of her robes over her left hand and grabbed a hold of the cup. She soon found out that the sleeve didn't fully protect her, however, for the cup was so hot it burned her even through her sleeve. She shrieked and stumbled backwards, knocking over a pile of gold in the process. The coins burned hot and immediately multiplied, and she staggered backwards hurriedly to avoid the heat.

Glancing over her shoulder, she saw the goblin's eyes widen in realization. He quickly began to move towards the door – no doubt intending to lock her in – but Hermione was faster.

'_Confundo_,' she said for the second time, and once again his eyes assumed a blank look and he shook his head. Hermione used the momentarily distraction to duplicate the cup and replace the copy on the top of the pile. Then she brusquely pushed the goblin out of the vault, trying to ignore the pain in her hand.

'What is –' the goblin began, looking around in bewilderment.

'I am quite finished,' she said haughtily, though her heart beat quickly in her chest. 'If you would show me out?'

'Madam Lestrange,' the goblin began, looking at her with wide opened eyes. 'But you were –'

She drew herself up to her full height. 'I have already asked you to show me out twice, and I will not do so a third time,' she snapped, making sure impatience was clearly sounding through. 'I am disappointed with the lack of service I have received today, and if it continues in this fashion I may be forced to reconsider storing my valuables here.'

This appeared to have an impact on the goblin, for he immediately stuttered 'Oh no, Madam Lestrange. Please forgive me. I don't know what came over me.'

She was suddenly incredibly glad that Bellatrix possessed such a frightening reputation.

'Well, see to it that it doesn't happen again,' she sniffed. Beside them the dragon began to stir, and the goblin, seeing this, quickly resumed to ring the clankers. They walked back to the cart and the goblin climbed back in. Hermione clambered into the cart as well. It immediately took off and within moments they were soaring through the underground tunnels. All too soon they reached the Thief's Downfall. The flow of the water was still stopped by her Shield Charm, and the goblin looked up confusedly. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, she once again pointed the wand at the goblin and said '_Confundo_.' Then she quickly lifted the shield charm, so that the water began flowing again behind them. The goblin looked dazed but seemed determined not to anger the person he believed to be Bellatrix any further by remarking upon it. She did not even want to begin imagining the confused state of mind the goblin must be in.

She briefly considered obliviating the goblin, but then, that did seem to be somewhat unnecessary. Perhaps, the goblin would just contribute the daze (and the few undoubtedly incriminating things he had seen) to an off day and tiredness. If no one found out about the break-in, he need never suspect anything.

She surreptitiously slid the cup into the folds of her robes, wincing slightly as her blistered hand caught on the material of her clothes. This was _so _the last time she was breaking into a wizarding bank.

They had finally arrived at their starting point and Hermione had never been more grateful to climb out of the Gringotts' cart. She followed the goblin back into the marble hall. Then he turned to her.

'Madam Lestrange, I hope you will forgive me my slip-up,' the goblin said, looking up at her. 'The goblins of Gringotts respect you tremendously and your family has had a vault with us for many centuries. The last thing we want is to lose you as a customer.'

_The last thing you want is to lose Bellatrix' money,_ Hermione corrected the goblin in her head. She didn't say this however – instead, she stared down on the goblin indignantly.

'Be sure that it doesn't happen again,' she said.

'Of course, Madam Lestrange,' the goblin said obediently. For all his humbleness, there was something akin to loathing in his eyes. Hermione felt apprehensive at the goblin's carefully shielded dislike. 'Have a good day, Madam Lestrange.'

She turned wordlessly and swept out of the bank, eager to be finally able to leave the place. The cup was still safely concealed beneath her robes – she could feel its warmness against her skin.

She marched through the now somewhat busier Diagon Alley, paying no heed to the people she passed by. She wanted nothing more than to go back to Grimmauld Place, destroy the Horcrux and get this all over with.

Within minutes she reached the passageway to the Leaky Cauldron and passed through it. Tom looked up as she walked into the bar.

'Madam Lestrange!' he exclaimed, staring at her openly. Hermione stared back. 'What happened to your hair?'

For one tiny moment she didn't have any clue what he was talking about – then she noticed the brown strand of hair that was hanging in front of her eyes. Brown.

'Some fool messed up a spell in my vicinity,' she spat at the toothless landlord, hoping to make up for her failing disguise with anger. 'And if you would stop harrassing me with useless questions I would be able to sort it out.'

The man visibly shrunk and Hermione felt bad for him for a moment, but consoled herself with the thought that the plan was much more important than the man's momentary comfort. She strode towards the fireplace, took some floo powder and threw it in.

'Grimmauld Place,' she whispered, not wanting to draw attention to the fact she was going somewhere she shouldn't be going if she was to impersonate Bellatrix convincingly. The flames flared emerald and she stepped into them. Then she spun and moved and travelled through the floo network. Within moments she had arrived at Grimmauld Place. Snape looked up at her entrance.

'I have to admit Bellatrix looks a lot less intimidating with your hair and eyes,' he remarked.

'Shut up and help me sort this out,' she spat, fumbling with her suddenly much too large robes. 'I put the cup somewhere in here.'

Snape stalked over to her and began pulling at her robes. Unfortunately his ministrations only made matters worse and though Snape found the cup, he seemed to have momentarily forgotten that it _burned _and dropped it within seconds.

'Ah!' he exclaimed, clutching his right hand with his left.

'You have no right to complain,' she snarled, feeling exhausted and drain. 'Look what it did to me!' She pulled back the sleeve from her left hand and showed Snape the burns and blisters on it.

'Very unfortunate,' he said coolly, wrapping part of his cloak around his hand and scooping the cup up. 'Now if you could get out of your miserable stupor for one moment, we have business to attend to.' He turned to the table the real Bellatrix was still tied to. She glared at his back. 'Well?'

Sighing, she made her way over to the table.

'Have you altered her memories yet?' she asked.

'I have,' he confirmed. 'Madam Lestrange is now under the impression that she spent the better part of the night drinking firewhisky and will hopefully contribute the haziness that will no doubt ensue to the influence of the alcohol. Now, if you would kindly give me her wand.'

She raised her eyebrows as she handed over the wand.

'What?' he spat, shoving the wand roughly into one of Bellatrix' pockets.

'That was the best you could come up with?' she queried, a smirk firmly into place on her face. Snape did not look amused. Instead of gracing her with an answer, however, he used his wand to let the ropes that restrained Bella release her.

'I will take her back to the edge of Malfoy Manor,' he said, using his wand to lift her from the table. 'You should change into something better-fitting.'

She scowled. He paid her no heed and left the kitchen, Bellatrix floating out in front of him. Hermione could only hope he remembered to accurately disillusion himself and the unconscious Death Eater. She went upstairs, lifting her robes so as not to trip on her way up. With a lot of effort she managed to wrestle herself free from the oversized robes, happily slid into a pair of jeans and put on her T-shirt. She had just headed down the stairs and into the entrance hall when Snape entered the house again.

'You managed?' she asked, halting.

'Naturally,' he said, his voice silky. 'Otherwise I would not have returned. Now, I believe we have a Horcrux to destroy?'

She nodded resolutely and they headed into the kitchen. The Horcrux was still sitting on the countertop where Snape had left it. He took the sword of Gryffindor from where it was lying on the floor and put the cup in its place.

'Stand back,' he warned, once again bringing up the sword. She did as he had ordered and watched him bring the sword down onto the cup. It gave a tiny howl, but otherwise did not show any outward signs of its death. She had to admit she was greatful the thing did not put up a fight like the locket had done.

'Well,' she said, leaning against the table. 'That was a rather anticlimatic end to an intense day.'

Snape raised an eyebrow. 'Intense? I thought you claimed to have the skills required to bring this to a good end?'

'And I did, didn't I?' she said, rubbing over her eyes. 'Let's see ... I only had to infiltrate Gringotts pretending to be Bellatrix, avoid the Thief's Downfall by casting a last-minute Shield Charm and wade through a sea of burning gold to extract a cup, which, I might add, also burned. Oh, and then there was the small matter that I had to confund a goblin thrice.'

'Thrice? Woman, you must have been extraordinarily clumsy.'

'Well, I could hardly cast that Shield Charm without him noticing, could I?' she snapped back. 'And surely you agree that the gold burning and multiplying at my touch was a slight giveaway? And perhaps –'

Then, suddenly, his lips were on hers and he was kissing her with a unprecedented passion. At first she was much too stunned to do anything, but then, as realization dawned upon her, she gave in and felt herself melt into the kiss. They only broke apart when they needed to catch their breath.

'What was that?' she asked as soon as her breathing was somewhat back to normal. 'Didn't you say you didn't care for me?'

Snape's eyes shone strangely. 'I changed my mind.'

She frowned. 'You changed your mind? Seems like an easy thing to say, after all you told me.'

Snape looked awkwardly at the floor. 'I apologize.'

Hermione hardly thought an apology could erase the painful things he'd said from her mind – but she'd seen the warning in his eyes, and, keen to preserve her newfound happiness, she decided to let the matter slip.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

'I have Summoned you here because I require your help, Severus,' the snake-like man hissed. 'As I am positive you already know.'

'My Lord?' Snape asked uncertainly. He was unclear as to why the Dark Lord had Summoned him in the middle of the night – on his own, no less.

'I have appointed you Headmaster of Hogwarts for a reason, Severus.' The red eyes shimmered dangerously.

'My Lord, I have done everything you commanded me to –'

'And you have done it well, yes.' Voldemort idly twisted his wand between his fingers. 'But that is not what I wish to speak to you about. Firstly, I must ask you to confirm that the body of Albus Dumbledore still lies within the tomb at Hogwarts.'

'I can confirm that, my Lord. No one has been near the tomb since the funeral.'

'Good,' Voldemort said, a smile appearing on his face. It was a truly horrible thing to behold. 'I want you to take me to that tomb.'

'To what end, my Lord?'

Voldemort narrowed his eyes at Snape, apparently seizing him up. 'There is something there that I desire.'

'Surely I could bring it to you, my Lord?'

'No!' Voldemort hissed, and Snape all but took a step back. 'I need to do this myself.'

'As you wish, my Lord.'

Voldemort gave him an approving look. 'Good. You will prepare yourself. We act Wednesday.'

'Of course, my Lord,' he said, taking a deep bow.

'Go, Severus,' the Dark Lord commanded. 'You are dismissed.'

'Yes, my Lord.'

He backed out of the room as quickly as his dignity let him.

* * *

Hermione watched as he shrugged off his cloak, the black wool damp with melted snow. He sat down on a chair next to her and regarded her with a serious expression.

'We can't wait much longer,' she said, not bothering with formalities. 'Voldemort will no doubt notice the absence of his Horcruxes soon. We have to kill the snake.'

'I know,' Snape sighed, resting his head in his hands. 'But we can't kill the snake too soon. If there is too much time between the moment we kill the snake and the moment we attack the Dark Lord, he will have had plenty of time to create more Horcruxes.'

'You think he would?' she asked incredulously.

'I think he's _capable_ of it. And we would do well not to take any risks regarding the Dark Lord.' Snape stared at the surface of the table. 'Provided that we will manage to kill him, of course.'

'Yes, about that,' she said quickly, turning so as to get a better look at him. 'I think we need help.'

'Help?' Snape spat. 'Who would we ask for help?'

'The Order,' she replied confidently.

Snape let out a harsh laugh. 'As if they would believe anything I say.'

'Perhaps they won't believe _you_, but they will believe _me_.'

'They will not believe you either if they know I have something to do with it,' Snape protested. 'They will think I tricked you.'

'They won't.'

'Won't they? They were only too keen to believe I turned traitor.'

'Well, you _did _kill Dumbledore,' she said apologetically. 'Listen, I won't have to mention you at all. I'll just say I have a reliable inside source.'

'They will think it's me.'

'Let them think. I know they'll fight if I ask them to.'

Snape slammed his fist down on the table and she recoiled slightly, shocked at the outburst of anger. When he spoke, however, his voice was calm. 'You don't know them.'

'I do!'

'You may think you know them, but you do not. They have always viewed you as a child, and rightly so. Even now that you have reached adulthood, they will view you as a child still. Think of Lupin – he taught you in your third year at Hogwarts. Do you think he will ever be able to accept you have grown into a woman?'

'_You _taught me.'

Snape groaned. 'I also spent more time with you in the past few months than any of the Order members did in the last few years. They won't understand, Hermione.'

'I'll make them understand!' She knew she was being immature, but couldn't he see that they _needed _allies? There was no way they would ever be able to defeat Voldemort when it was just the two of them!

'You are naive,' he spat. 'You put too much trust in humanity.'

'And you are bitter,' she retorted.

'I have reason to be.'

'I have reason to trust them.'

'Fine,' he sighed. 'You are more than free to try and convince them. Don't come to me when they refuse to help you.'

She allowed a tiny smile to appear on her face. 'Seeing as the Dark Lord doesn't seem to want to show up in public too much, this doesn't seem like a problem we'll have to worry about soon.'

Snape's face turned dark. 'Actually, we do.'

'What do you mean?' she asked, baffled.

'The Dark Lord Summoned me today,' Snape began slowly. 'He told me he needed my help. He wanted to see the Headmaster's body.'

'Dumbledore's? But why?'

'He seemed to want to take something from him, though what, I do not know.'

'And you showed him?'

Snape shook his head slowly. 'No, I haven't yet. He commanded me to take him there next week Wednesday. You should know that I was Summoned alone.'

'And that is unusual?'

'Very. The air of mystery surrounding the Dark Lord's actions leads me to believe I am the only one he has told about his desire to get to Dumbledore's body, and only because he needed me. Which means that next week Wednesday –'

'Voldemort will be on our territory with minimal security,' she finished. 'Oh Severus, this is perfect! We could lay an ambush for him right there!'

'Provided your Order friends are willing to believe you when you tell them this.'

She shot him a disapproving look. 'Of course they will. And I will begin contacting them now – starting with the Weasleys.'

Snape looked unimpressed. 'Do your best.'

* * *

Three hours later, Hermione found Snape's attitude to be a lot more justified.

'If you'd just listen,' she pleaded, looking at the people sitting around the kitchen table at the Burrow. 'I'm telling you Voldemort will be at Hogwarts next Wednesday. And he will have minimum protection! We have seize this chance!'

'No, we don't,' Kingsley boomed from the other end of the table. 'There is no reason whatsoever to believe that we'll be able to defeat Voldemort even if he only takes a few Death Eaters with him. We've never been able to win in the past, and it's unlikely that we will all of a sudden.'

'No, you don't –'

'Dear,' Mrs. Weasley interrupted sweetly. 'Kingsley is right. We don't stand a chance. Not even if your 'inside source' is correct.'

'He is!' she snapped. 'But you're completely missing the point!'

'Hermione,' Lupin said gently, 'I don't think you are quite able to grasp the seriousness of this situation. Voldemort –'

'Voldemort will soon be mortal again!' In her frustration, she had jumped up and slammed with her fist on the table. The group around her was staring at her with a mixture of shock and disapproval. Hermione took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. It would not do to turn into a blubbering idiot. 'Dumbledore left me a mission.'

'He left _you _a mission?' Kingsley asked incredulously. 'Why would he do that if he had the whole Order at his command?'

'Oh, he had several reasons,' she answered vaguely. She did not think telling the Order Dumbledore hadn't trusted them enough to tell them about the mission would help to sway them her way. 'The point is, he told me – and someone else, too – that Voldemort appeared to be immortal because he had Horcruxes.'

'A Horcrux?' Moody asked from the back of the room. His magical eye was moving like mad.

'Horcruxes, actually,' she answered, somewhat calmer now that she had the undivided attention of the Order. 'Plural.'

'What are Horcruxes?' Mrs. Weasley asked, looking from Hermione to Moody.

'A piece of soul hidden in an object,' Hermione quickly explained. 'It allows someone to stay alive even if their body is destroyed.'

'So you are saying that You-Know-Who had some of those –'

'Yes. Yes, he had six,' she breathed.

'Six?' Moody's magical eye appeared to be close to falling out of its eye socket.

'Yes, six. We've managed to destroy five so far. If all goes according to plan, we should be able to destroy the sixth one before Voldemort travels to Hogwarts on Wednesday.'

'Who is this other person you talk about?' Moody grunted suspiciously.

'I'm afraid I cannot tell you that,' she sighed. 'But know that Dumbledore trusted this person and that he picked them to bring this mission to a good end.'

'Dumbledore trusted Snape too,' Lupin said sadly. 'And look where that got him.'

'This is not like that,' she said firmly.

'What if you don't manage to destroy that last Horcrux before Wednesday?' Kingsley inquired.

'Well, then I'd say we'd at least severely weaken Voldemort,' she said slowly. 'And if we hunt him down immediately after that ... we should be able to kill him anyway. But I'm confident that we'll manage to destroy the Horcrux before Wednesday.'

Kingsley looked sceptical. 'I don't know. This plan of yours seems to have a lot of what-if's.'

Anxiousness once again took her over. What if the Order said no? She would never be able to take on Voldemort with only Snape as an ally.

A voice from the back of the room eased her predicament. 'I say we do it.'

She turned around. Moody was standing there, leaning on his cane, a fierce look in his eyes. She could cry with relief: if Moody was in for the plan, the rest of the Order would soon follow.

'Moody, are you certain?' Kingsley asked. 'This could be very risky.'

Moody let out a bark-like laugh. 'For your information, fighting the Dark tends to be risky.' His normal eye roamed over the group. 'From what Granger is saying, this may very well be our best chance to beat Voldemort.'

Mr Weasley, who had up until then listened quietly to the conversation, nodded slowly and said 'Yes, I do believe you are right, Alastor.' His eyes locked with Hermiones and she felt a rush of warmth at the look of support in them. 'We should do this.'

Lupin looked around the room. 'Perhaps we should take a vote?' he suggested. At the nods of the other Order members, he said 'All those who wish to execute the plan ...'

A sea of hands went up. Hermione felt oddly touched when she saw that every single Order member had raised their hand.

'Thank you,' she whispered hoarsely. 'You don't know how relieved I am to have your support.'

She shot a grateful look over her shoulder at Moody. For a moment, it seemed as though he smiled back. Then it was gone and she wasn't sure whether she had imagined it.

The other Order members got up from their chairs and began to leave the room. Hermione felt a gentle hand settle onto her shoulder. She knew without looking that it was Mr Weasley.

'If you … Well, I thought you might like to …' Mr Weasley appeared to have trouble finding the proper words.

'That I might like to see Ron?' she asked, sensing what he desired to say.

Mr Weasley nodded. 'Yes. I … He is doing well. There are still some scars, of course, but there's good hope those will fade with time.'

'And … what about his mental state?' Hermione asked cautiously.

Mr Weasley swallowed thickly. 'I would not say there has been a definite improvement. However,' he glanced around the room to make sure they were alone, 'he does seem to be a bit more … clear, as of late.'

Hermione nodded. 'I take it he is upstairs?'

'Yes.' Mr Weasley stepped aside, allowing Hermione to get up. She exited the kitchen, throwing one more look over her shoulder. Mr Weasley looked small and fragile as he stood there, clutching the back of the chair she'd just vacated.

* * *

'What if he doesn't Summon you in time?' she asked for what must have been the hundredth time – judging by Snape's exasperated sigh, in any case.

'We will lay the ambush anyway,' he repeated. 'And hope for the best.'

'But what if he manages to rise to power again? What if he creates more Horcruxes?'

'Hermione, calm down.' Snape rubbed at his eyes. 'He will Summon me in time.'

'But it's already Tuesday. What if –'

'Will you keep your trap shut for a moment?' Snape snapped, slamming his hand against the worktable. 'I am trying to think.'

She wisely shut her mouth. Snape bent over his notes once more. She should have known better than to disturb him while he was experimenting with a potion – he didn't tend to like being interrupted while he worked. Still, she couldn't help but fear that Voldemort would not Summon him in time – thus rendering their plan to kill Nagini ineffective.

For days she had been on edge, ready to jump into action at a moment's notice, and the constant vigilance (she repressed a snort at the thought of Moody) was starting to get to her. She carried a small vial with the hairs she had stolen from a Muggle woman with her at all times so that they could immediately be thrown into the Polyjuice Potion whenever they needed to leave. Harry's invisibility cloak never left her side. Flasks of Polyjuice Potion stood at stragetic intervals throughout the house.

Snape had said that they would have very little time to gather their things before leaving for the meeting, and she knew that when Snape said 'little time' he meant 'no time'. Thus, she was ready and waiting. Waiting for something that wouldn't come. She sighed deeply.

'Can I help?'

* * *

They had been brewing for hours – only occasionally taking a break to sleep in turns. The Potion Snape had been experimenting was almost done, and so far the cauldron hadn't exploded yet. Hermione took this as a very good sign. Snape was about to add the final ingredient when he suddenly clutched his forearm. The jar of leeches he had been holding fell to the floor and shattered.

'What is it?' she asked, dashing over to him. 'Is he –'

'Yes,' Snape ground out. 'Quickly. Get your things.' Snape himself _accio_'d his Death Eater mask from the other side of the room where it had lain waiting and fastened it on his head. She shook the few hairs into a nearby flask of Polyjuice Potion and drank the muddy liquid. It tasted better than Bellatrix, though not by much. Moments later she had transformed into a black-haired Muggle woman, who, fortunately, was about the same length and size as she was herself. She didn't know what she would have done had her clothes suddenly been much too large – or too small.

_So many holes in this plan it's almost transparent._

She grabbed the Sword of Gryffindor and hid it beneath her clothes. She then took the invisibility cloak from her pocket and threw it over herself.

'I'm ready,' she said. Her voice, she was pleased to notice, was steady. Though she was very afraid of what was about to come, she was glad the wait was over.

'Come on then,' Snape said, and he motioned for her to follow him. They rapidly descended the stairs and quickly reached the front porch of Grimmauld Place. Then they walked, at a brisk pace, to the alley they had used several times to disapparate from. Once there, Snape held out his arm. 'Take my arm.'

She did as he told her to do and moments later they were spinning through limbo. Hazy images passed her by, the familiar sense of nausea threatened to overcome her – and then it was over and they were standing on a narrow lane. Snape set off at a brisk pace, and she followed him as quickly as she could while remaining hidden beneath the invisibility cloak. Soon they reached a heavy-wrought iron gate, and Snape paused. Just as she asked what he was about to do, he presented her with his right arm.

'Hold on tightly,' he said, not looking at her. 'Very tightly.' She took a firm grip of his arm, squeezing so hard she was sure it would leave marks on Snape's arm. He held up his left arm and they passed through the gate. It was a curious sensation: cold and wet, yet when she emerged she was warm and dry as ever. She quickly released Snape's arm. 'From now on no more communication. You are on your own,' he said from the corner of his mouth. She nodded, then remembered he couldn't see her and instead decided to follow him quietly.

The gravel crackled beneath their feet as they hurried on, soon reaching the front door. As they approached it swung open of its own accord. Snape rushed inside and she followed quickly, afraid the door would close on her because she didn't carry the Dark Mark. She allowed herself a second to acknowledge the beauty of the hallway they had just entered; it had a polished stone floor and an expensive-looking carpet. There were portraits on the wall, all of them featuring pale, blonde wizards and witches. Their eyes followed Snape as he passed them by and she felt a lingering sense of unease.

Then they had left the hallway and were standing in front of a wooden door. Snape turned the knob and opened the door. He went through it, allowing the door to remain open a heartbeat longer than strictly necessary. She passed through. The door fell shut behind her.

'Ah, Severus,' a hissing voice came from a high-backed chair near the fireplace. 'I was worried you would not join us.' Hermione looked at the speaker and had to repress a shiver. Voldemort was sitting at the head of the table, still as pale and horrible as he had been in the Ministry several years ago. His eyes seemed even redder than they had then, and they had a greedy gleam to them. The snake was curled around his shoulders.

'My Lord,' Snape said, kneeling down in front of Voldemort, effectively baring his neck in the process. Hermione silently admired his courage. (And his neck, though she wouldn't quickly admit to that.) 'I apologize for making you wait.'

'See that it doesn't happen again. Now, sit down.' Voldemort waved carelessly at the chair next to him and Snape sat down. Hermione inched towards the head of the table. The invisibility cloak caught behind something on the floor. She froze immediately, but apparently the snake had noticed something, for she lifted her head and stared directly at where Hermione was standing. Apparently seeing nothing, she returned to her original position. Hermione was hard-pressed not to sigh with relief. The Death Eaters had begun discussing other things.

'Where is Dolohov?' Voldemort asked icily, looking around the room. 'I would expect him to not be so careless, seeing as he recently had the nerve to try my patience.' Voldemort looked at Lucius Malfoy, who stared back, speechless and horrified. Hermione marvelled at how different he was now from how he had been in the restaurant a few weeks ago. Being in Voldemort's vicinity did nothing for his looks and charm.

'My Lord,' Lucius said so softly Hermione had to strain her ears to hear him. 'I don't know where he is.'

'Of course you don't know where he is,' Voldemort hissed dangerously. 'Lately, you seem to be as clueless as those very Muggles we have been fighting so hard to erradicate. Still, I suppose this time the blame lies with Dolohov – who is late yet again.'

'Yes, my Lord.' Lucius looked extremely relieved to be reprieved of Voldemort's wrath. Hermione edged closer to Voldemort's chair. She had no idea how she was supposed to kill the snake if the animal was curled up around Voldemort's shoulders, unless, of course, she also managed to kill Voldemort in the same strike. Somehow, this seemed unlikely. She passed a hand over the pocket of her jeans, checking whether the portkey was still in place. It was. Snape had discreetly taken measure of the security on his previous visits, but though he had assured her that the portkey would work, she could not shake her nerves.

'Yaxley,' Voldemort said. A tall man at the end of the table looked up. Hermione automatically felt her gaze drawn to him.

'Yes, my Lord?' The man's voice was steady, but Hermione thought she could detect a trace of fear. Once again she wondered at Voldemort's power. Most of his followers seemed to either hate or fear him, but they remained by his side nevertheless. This led her to believe they were more afraid of Voldemort's wrath if they fled than they were of serving him. She felt a fierce rush of pride at Snape. He might not have left, but he _had _turned spy, and he had managed to pull it off so far.

'About the Ministry, why –'

Voldemort was interrupted by the opening of the door. A man stepped into the room. Hermione recognized his face from a mug shot in the Daily Prophet: it was Dolohov. She used the distraction his entrance created to walk the last few steps towards Voldemort's chair. The snake looked up again and stared directly at her. Hermione held her breath, but she feared the beating of her heart might give her away at any second.

'Yaxley,' Voldemort's high voice came from in front of her. 'You are late.'

Yaxley hastened to kneel down in front of Voldemort. 'My Lord, I apologize, I –'

But Voldemort had already extracted his wand from his robes and had pointed it at Yaxley. '_Crucio_,' he hissed.

Yaxley screamed and began writhing on the floor. Hermione felt a stab of pity for the man. A savage smile had appeared on Voldemort's face, and he looked more terrifying than ever. The snake slithered from Voldemort's shoulders and Hermione quickly stepped back to allow her passage. Nagini was headed towards Yaxley. She had to act now: who knew when the snake would leave Voldemort's side again? She fumbled with Gryffindor's sword beneath the Cloak, and then, deciding to rid herself of the garment all together, pulled it off.

Several Death Eaters shrieked as she appeared in the room but she paid them no heed: to them she was no more than an unfamiliar woman. She had no time to waste thinking about them. Instead, she quickly brought the sword up above her head, and with one swift motion slashed the snake's head off.

For the space of a second, her eyes locked with Narcissa Malfoy's, and she thought she saw recognition in the older woman's eyes.

Voldemort, who seemed to have realized what was happening, howled with outrage and pointed his wand at her. Hermione was momentarily overcome with fear – what if she didn't manage to escape? But her hand had already found its way into the pocket of her jeans and had closed around the ring inside it. The last thing she saw before falling into the blur of colour were Narcissa's cold blue eyes, still looking into her own.

She collided with a bang with the drawing room floor and let out a shaky breath. She left the Invisibility Cloak and the sword of Gryffindor on the floor and stood unsteadily. Hermione walked up to the furthest wall and stood in front of the mirror. The face of the unnamed Muggle woman stared back at her. Hermione carefully twisted her head, looking for any sign that might have given her true identity away. There was none. The Polyjuice Potion had worked as it should.

Then why had Narcissa Malfoy seemed to recognize her? For that fleeting second, Hermione had been absolutely sure that Narcissa knew exactly who she was – yet how could she have? Had she guessed? Had she known that Hermione hadn't truly left with her family as she had made out to have?

Giving up the scrutinization of her face in the mirror, she stumbled backwards and collapsed onto a leather couch, facing the tapestry with the Black Family tree on the wall. She couldn't help but let her eyes glide over it – the burned hole in the tapestry where she knew Sirius' name had once been, the other hole where Andromeda should have been, and, of course, the still completely intact names of Bellatrix and Narcissa. Narcissa's name was connected with a double golden line to Lucius', and another line between them led down to Draco's.

She wondered where Draco was; he hadn't been at the Death Eater meeting. Would he have returned to Hogwarts? She figured he might as well have, what with the Death Eaters being in charge, but then again, he had seemed pretty fed up with school in her sixth year. Though that, of course, could have been due to the prospect of having to kill Dumbledore.

'That was quite the show,' a voice came from the door opening, and Hermione's head snapped up. Snape was standing there, leaning against the door frame. She sagged back into the couch.

'It wasn't a performance I'd like to repeat,' she answered gloomily. Snape raised an eyebrow.

'Why not? It went, by all means, perfect, did it not?'

'I think Narcissa Malfoy recognized me,' she whispered.

'What do you mean?'

'She ... she looked at me, and I just ... I just ... she seemed to recognize me.'

Snape walked into the room and sat down next to her on the couch. 'If she did, she did not show it,' Snape said slowly. 'From what I gathered, no one suspected the person to have come in and killed Nagini to be you.'

'I'm still not convinced,' she muttered, staring resolutely at the tapestry.

'Well then, you will be glad to hear that the Dark Lord has decided to continue his plans of coming to Hogwarts tonight.'

Hermione did look at Snape then. She had almost forgotten Voldemort's scheduled trip to Hogwarts was tonight, and she hadn't even considered that he might have a change of heart because of what had happened to his snake.

'And he's going to check his other Horcruxes first?' she asked, a touch of fear in her voice.

'I do not think so,' Snape drawled. 'He will not have time to visit them all before night falls, and he appeared very set on getting to the Headmaster's body as soon as possible, even despite what has happened to his snake.'

Snape allowed his gaze to wander to the large windows. The sun was already beginning to set.

'You should rejoin the rest of the Order,' he said curtly, abruptly getting up. 'I will go back to Hogwarts and prepare a few things for the arrival of the Dark Lord. Make sure you hide yourselves well – it won't do to have the Dark Lord discover you before he is close enough to be in any danger.'

She nodded mutely and watched as Snape left the room. Now that the end was near, she suddenly felt incredibly tired.


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: This story is offered 'as is', regardless of any possible inconsistencies or even plotholes. I have no desire to revise or work on this story in any form anymore, and I am only uploading these last few chapters out of consideration for my readers, if there are any left after all this time.**

**Chapter Twelve**

'Tonks, behind those bushes!' Moody barked, limping over to the werewolf. 'I don't see how you think you will be able to escape Voldemort's sight by leaning against a rock, but it's not going to work. Come on, get a move on!'

Tonks hurried over to the bushes Moody had pointed out and ducked behind them. Moody hobbled over to the bushes and gave Tonks a firm rap on the head with his wand. The next moment, Tonks' body had assumed the colour of the bushes in front of her and the grass behind her. Moody nodded approvingly.

'Good!' he said loudly, looking around at the group hidden around the white tomb. 'It looks like we're all set. Now remember, don't do anything until Voldemort moves past that rock there.' Moody pointed at the rock.

On her right Hermione heard a rustle as Lupin shifted behind his own bushes. She swallowed thickly, a fierce debate going on inside her head. What should she do? If she didn't tell the Order Snape was on their side, they would no doubt fire curses at him too – and perhaps even kill him! But if she did tell them, there was the chance that they would cancel the whole plan, still believing Snape to be the traitor they thought he was. She gulped in some air and climbed out of the tree she had been sitting in. She would not be responsible for Snape's death, not even if he had told her to shut up.

'Moody!' she said as she stepped onto the grass clearing. Moody's magical eye immediately came to rest on her and he turned towards her.

'Granger!' he barked, stepping closer to her. 'What have I told you about staying hidden?'

'This is important!' She looked around the clearing, trying to spot the various Order members hidden between the wildlife. 'Listen carefully – no, _listen_!' she said as Moody opened his mouth. 'Before Voldemort gets here, I need you to know ... I need you to know that Severus Snape is not what you believe him to be.'

Moody's mouth had fallen open and he was staring at her incredulously. From her left sounded Mrs Weasley's voice.

'Hermione, what are you talking about?'

'Snape helped me set this up,' she rattled. 'Snape helped me to destroy the Horcruxes – he is on our side!'

'He killed Dumbledore,' Lupin protested, half-rising from behind the bush in front of her. 'He cannot be trusted.'

'He killed Dumbledore because the Headmaster asked him, no, _ordered_ him to!' she snapped, staring fiercely at the bush. 'He is on our side, and he will be taking Voldemort here in a few moments. So we should _not _fire any curses at him.'

'Granger,' Moody grunted. 'We don't have time for this. Voldemort can be here at any moment.'

'Precisely,' she said, turning to look at Moody. 'Which is why I need you to just accept my word and leave Snape alone for now. You can interrogate him all you like later, but don't attack him now.'

Moody looked at her intently; both his normal and his magical eye boring into hers. It gave her an uneasy feeling, but she did not avert her gaze. To look away would be to admit defeat. Moody at last averted his gaze.

'All right!' he barked at the clearing at large. 'Do not attack Snape! Anyone who does will be answering to me!' Then he turned back to her. 'We will talk about this later, Granger,' he said less loudly. 'And we will sort the matter out. Now go back to your tree.'

She did as he had bid her, the overwhelming feeling of relief and gratitude almost making her sick. She climbed into the tree, twice almost falling out but managing to grab onto a branch at the very last moment. At last she had reached a reasonably safe spot and secured her legs around a thick branch. Then the waiting began.

Darkness crept over the grounds of Hogwarts and became like a veil to the hidden Order members. It was starting to get cold and Hermione shivered up in her tree. She clutched her wand a little tighter and continued staring into the night, waiting for any sign of Voldemort's impending arrival. After what seemed like an eternity, the sound of a branch snapping beneath a shoe penetrated the darkness.

Hermione allowed a weak smile to appear onto her face. This was no doubt Snape's doing: his warning to her and the rest of the Order. She narrowed her eyes, trying to see through the darkness. Was that a face?

Another twig snapped and this time she was certain she could make out several figures heading towards the tomb. She counted them quickly. Eight. Seven minus Snape, six minus Voldemort himself. She swallowed thickly. There were still more Death Eaters than she had expected – she had figured Voldemort wouldn't bring more than two. Apparently he had become somewhat more cautious after the loss of his snake.

The dark figures slowly advanced towards the rock Moody had used to mark the point they were allowed to attack Voldemort at. One of the figures looked up and for a moment, red eyes were illuminated by the moonlight. She felt an odd feeling in the pit of the stomach as she thought of the man down there, unaware that he would be dead within his next three steps.

Voldemort had almost reached the rock. She raised her wand. Only two metres to go now. One. Inches. She opened her mouth to utter the curse – and found that she didn't know if she could do it. No matter what Voldemort had done to her, no matter what he had taken from her – it seemed almost too cruel take another's life.

There was a rustle beside her and Voldemort's head snapped up. The moon was again reflected in his red eyes. She looked down into those eyes and found an inexplicable coldness claw at her heart.

'_Avada Kedavra_.' The curse was more a whisper than a wish, but still it came and a green jet escaped from the tip of her wand. It joined the other half a dozen streaks that were headed towards the tirant, and struck Voldemort in the chest. For a moment he remained upright, his eyes wide and uncomprehending, and then he faltered and fell back.

Several of the Death Eaters behind him let out cries of outrage and began shooting curses at random. A jet of red light disappeared into the bushes beside her and she heard a muffled _thud _as Tonks collapsed onto the grass.

'Tonks!' she exclaimed, momentarily forgetting that to make a sound was to give away her position. One of the Death Eaters who had heard her cry of fear spun around and shot a curse in her direction. It missed her by inches, but severed the branch she had been sitting on. She fell down with a loud scream and collided with the ground hard. She found herself unable to move, feeling as though she had broken every bone in her body.

A boot crushed a twig beside her head. Narcissa Malfoy's form loomed over her, her blue eyes large and shocked within her pale face. Her wand was drawn and it was pointed directly at Hermione. Blue eyes connected with brown ones, and for a moment the two women just stared at each other. There was something in the other woman's gaze that spoke of despair and hopelessness, and in that instant Hermione realized what must have happened to Draco. The Dark Lord was not forgiving to those of his servants who failed him. Then Narcissa pointed her wand away from Hermione and stepped aside.

Hermione fought to sit up, but it seemed as though all her strength had fled. The bushes to her left gently swayed in the wind, and Hermione knew that behind to branches still lay concealed Tonks' body, alive or dead. Biting back a sudden sob, she reached out and began crawling. Though the clearing was stilled filled with shouts and curses, the battle immediately around her had ceased, and there was a strange sort of stillness to her surroundings.

Crawling through the bushes was hard, and more than once a branch raked over her face or arms, leaving behind painful scratches. When she touched her fingers to one, they came away red. Still she crawled on, too numb to feel the cold of the night or hear the shouts of the lost.

Tonks looked somehow smaller than she ever had before, and there was a coldness in her eyes that Hermione had never glimpsed while she was alive. Needlessly, she pressed her fingers against Tonks' throat and felt for a pulse. The answering emptiness made her shiver with unconcealed horror.

A warm hand closed around her shoulder and pulled her away from the body. Hermione let it, feeling too drained to protest. She was vaguely aware of being guided to the treeline of the Forbidden Forest. The person pushed her down onto the ground next to a tree. Then he knelt down in front of her.

'Are you all right?' Hermione was surprised to hear the trace of worry in Snape's voice. She nodded, unable to find words. Snape looked into her eyes, and shestared back, feeling emptier than she had ever felt in her whole life.

'Wait here for me,' Snape said. He withdrew his hand, stood and ran back to the battle. She closed her eyes, not particularly caring what happened to her. Snape had warned her to stay, and her limbs were devoid of any strength, so she did not suppose she had any choice in the matter. The grass beneath her hands felt wet, and it occurred to her that the forest was weeping as surely as she should be. Then she cleared her mind of every thought, and soon even the bangs and screams from the battle had become no more than vague background noise.

What felt like a lifetime later Snape finally returned. He dragged her to her feet and she stood, wobbly, leaning onto him. His face was pallid and the image of it served to return her to the present.

'Did we win?' she asked weakly.

Snape looked at her oddly, and there was something in his gaze she could not quite place. The messages concealed within those depths were too much for her to even begin to ponder, and she felt like she might need a lifetime to learn every nuance of his expression. 'Yes, we won,' he said at last, and his voice was comfortingly calm.

'I should've helped,' she murmured, shaking her head to herself. 'I should have ...'

'No, you should not have,' Snape said firmly, squeezing her arm a little too tightly. 'You would have got yourself killed.' He began leading her away from the treeline.

'What happened to the others?'

Snape's mouth thinned and he looked resolutely away from her. 'They're fine.'

'Severus,' she said sternly. 'I want to know what happened.'

Snape sighed deeply. 'Fine,' he spat, his black eyes boring into hers. 'Kingsley is in St. Mungo's. He is seriously injured but they think he will be fine.'

'That's all?' she asked, feeling strangely hollow. In her mind, she could still see Tonks' eyes, staring up blankly at the night sky.

'I ... yes.' He stopped, looking down at her. 'They all survived, except ...'

'Except for Tonks,' she said. It was strange to realize that the fear and panic she had initially felt were gone, replaced by a numbness that was at once better and worse than the blinding grief of loss.

A trickle of blood ran into her eye, and Snape brushed the worst of it away from her forehead. Then he took her arm once more and pulled her towards the castle.

'Where are we going?' she asked.

'To my quarters,' Snape said harshly, though she knew by now that his coldness was more out of habit than any real anger. 'I don't think you should be alone in Grimmauld Place right now.'

'Professor Snape?' a small voice came from beside them. Snape stopped and turned to face the student who had addressed him. Hermione noticed with a shock that he was truly tiny; he couldn't be much older than eleven.

'What is it, Mr Stevens?'

She was surprised to hear the sudden gentleness in Snape's voice and her brains worked hard to draw conclusions. The boy had to be a Slytherin.

'What is going on, sir?'

Snape looked at the boy in silence for a few moments before answering, 'The Dark Lord has been defeated.'

The boy gasped and nearly lost his balance. 'Really, sir?'

Some lines in Snape's face seemed to ease. 'Really.'

They boy's face lit up. Hermione became painfully aware yet again that not all Slytherin's were 'bad', and she would do well not to forget it.

'Now, Mr Stevens, I think you should head to bed.' Snape looked around the entrance hall and Hermione only then became aware that they were surrounded by students, all of them with various levels of shock on their faces. 'That goes for all of you.'

Snape still appeared to have the same intimidating effect on students that he'd had all those years ago, and the kids quickly dispersed under his stern gaze. When Snape seemed confident that they were all heading back to their dormitories, he tightened his grip on her arm and took her down to the dungeons. She allowed him to, feeling too tired to protest much. Twice she almost slipped, too weary walk properly, but Snape managed to keep her standing. Then they at last reached a non-descript door. Snape uttered a password but she was too exhausted to make out what he was saying. The door swung open.

Snape led her quickly past a surprisingly bright living room and through another door that led to a bedroom. This room, too, was much brighter than she had expected it to be. Seeing her baffled look, Snape allowed himself to smirk.

'I don't think anyone would like to be surrounded by black all the time,' he said, pushing her down onto the bed. 'Now, rest.'

'But what about you?' she protested weakly. 'Where will you sleep?'

'I have told you before that I am a wizard and as such perfectly able of conjuring a bed for myself,' Snape replied drily. 'My capabilities have not changed since then, so you need not worry.'

She smiled weakly and watched as Snape left the room. Only then did she allow herself to collapse onto the bed and sleep.


	13. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

The day they buried Tonks was a cold but beautiful winter day. Though the snow was thick beneath their feet, the few fresh, young plants that shot up from the snow held the promise of new life.

The emptiness that she had initially felt after the battle had all but disappeared, and where Tonks had been there was now a wound somewhere inside her, aching at the strangest of times. Tonks had been a casualty in their war for peace, and she had become a reminder of all that they had lost. At times, Hermione felt almost overcome by waves of guilt for not being able to prevent Tonks' death, but she suppressed them as best as she knew how to.

The toll the battle had taken was clear all around them: Kingsley was missing because he was still in St. Mungo's, Mr Weasley had newly acquired a Moody-worthy limp, and Mad-Eye himself was missing yet another chunk from his nose. Neither Mr Weasley nor Moody appeared to be upset with their injuries, however. Rather, they seemed to think it a small price to pay for their victory.

As the coffin was lowered into the grave, a silence dawned on the group. Hermione watched as it disappeared into the ground, Tonks' remains encased within. She felt a tear escape from her eye, and before she knew it her shoulders were shaking with the force of her unsuccesful attempt at repressing her tears.

A hand found its way to her own and closed around her fingers before giving a tiny squeeze. Through the mist of tears she was able to see that Snape was looking away from her, apparently unconcerned with her tears, but his hand around hers was solid proof that he was on her side. A small smile appeared on her face. A lot had been lost in this war, but much had been won as well. And now, the spring of a new life was heading towards them.

They began to walk away from the graveyard, her hand still in Snape's.

Tonks was gone, and so was Dumbledore, and Harry, who had been her best friend in all the world. But she was still here. She was still breathing.

And she remembered.


End file.
